The Melody in the Music
by stormrider7
Summary: The Circle mages find a girl with ambient magic. Being accredited mages, they must teach her to control and use her magic, but they do more than that when they are dragged into the story of her past. Will the girl's deranged father tear their group apart?
1. Encounter

**Author's note: OK, this is my first fanfic, so BE NICE! Lol. Please review – all comments welcome.**

A tall girl of fourteen years strode with purpose through the crowds of one of Summersea's many marketplaces, the skirts of a typical commoner swaying around her long legs. As she waved greetings to the many stallholders she had befriended over the past years, her long, golden-brown curls caught the sunlight, showing off a reddish hue. She was off to visit one of the many food stalls manned by a particularly close friend. She was paid to play music in front of the store to attract customers.

Anticipating her visit, Stephanie wasn't watching her path or the people on it. She bumped into something hard and toppled over backwards, her bag flying out of her hand.

"Watch where you're going!" snapped an irritable voice.

Steph snatched her bag from the ground and stood up. Before her, a plump girl around the same age as her was gathering books that had spilled from her hands. Her red hair had been braided and coiled in patterns on her head. "And these were new…" the girl muttered.

Steph knelt and helped the redhead collect her books. "Sorry."

The two teenagers stood. The girl was a few inches shorter than Steph, but held the impression that she was much taller. As Steph passed the books back to the girl, one pair of storm-grey eyes met another.

"Thanks. It's just that I'm late meeting my teacher, Niko, and –"

"I know who you are!" interrupted Steph. "You're that lightning mage! I've heard some pretty barbaric stories about you."

"So has everyone else." the mage replied with a twisted smile.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go. I'm late meeting a friend, and I've got the shopping to do…" Steph trailed off. And with that, she hitched her bag higher on her shoulder and walked away, engulfed by busy shoppers in seconds.

oOo

As Trisana Chandler was about to walk away in the opposite direction, a faint glimmer on the ground caught her eye. She looked down and saw a small, wooden flute lying on the cobblestone road. A pail, silver glow surrounded it.

"Magic." Breathed Tris, picking it up. It must have fallen out of the girl's bag when she fell, Tris reasoned. She turned the flute in her small, nail-bitten hands, curiously inspecting it. Inscribed near the end were the words 'Stephanie, room 3, Miriam's Inn'.

Tris sighed. She would have to return the flute to the girl another time. Niko was to continue to teach her and her foster-siblings how to scry. In the few lessons she'd already had with her brother and two sisters, she was the only one to actually be able to see anything in her bowl of liquid, and even then they were only flashes of colour.

Tucking the wooden instrument into her own bag, Tris began the slow walk back to the main square, where a wagon heading for Winding Circle Temple was waiting to pick her up.

oOo

Ordina looked up as Steph stumbled behind the counter, plonking her bag on the sturdy, wooden table.

"Sorry I'm late, Ordie," the girl apologized. "I – oh no!"

"What is it?" asked the older woman.

"My flute's missing. I must have left it at home." Steph admitted. "I guess I can't play for the customers."

"Aah, think again, girl." Ordie smiled and reached into a box behind her. She pulled out a fiddle and passed it to the girl. "You forgot about this."

Steph smiled. She walked to the front of the stall and slid into a tailor's seat. The moment bow struck string in the first long, quavering note, heads turned and passers-by stopped to listen to the beautiful song, tossing the occasional coin into her lap.

Ordie listened with wonder as this young girl's amazing talent showed itself to these many people. Every weekday, Steph came to her stall and played music. As soon as she played the first note, shoppers stopped what they were doing to come and listen, swaying in tune to the melody.

When the sun had crossed the middle of the sky and was starting to edge towards the western hills, Steph stopped playing. When she had carefully stowed the fiddle, Ordie approached the teenager. She pressed a silver coin into one hand and handed back her bag filled with wrapped up food.

"Ordie, remember that girl you told me about? The one that plays with the weather?" asked Steph, pulling a pear out of her bag. Ordie nodded. "Does she come here a lot?" she continued, biting into the fruit.

"Often enough." Ordie replied with a shrug. "Why?"

Steph chewed thoughtfully and swallowed. "Never mind." And with a friendly wave, she turned and left.


	2. Following

**Author's note: Thanks for the reviews keep sending :) I would have updated earlier but I wasn't home sorry**

"Trisana, you aren't concentrating." A curt voice broke into her thoughts.

"Well neither are they," she retorted, flapping a hand at her foster-siblings, Briar, Sandry and Daja. It was true – Sandry was losing interest and Briar his patience.

"Maybe, but this isn't your usual standard," insisted Niko.

"I've a headache." This wasn't entirely a lie – a dull pounding was beginning around her temples- but that wasn't what bothered her.

Niko raised his black brows. Tris sighed: he knew her to well.

"I bumped into a girl at the market. She left this behind." Tris handed her teacher the small, wooden flute she had taken to the lesson in her pocket.

"It's covered with magic." observed Niko.

Tris rolled her eyes. "No. You think so?" she replied sarcastically. "Well, I don't think she's trained. No mage in control would let so much of their magic bleed out onto a simple instrument. On top of that, the magic is, as far as I can tell, doing nothing."

"Hmm." Niko, deep in thought, didn't notice when Briar snatched the flute from his grasp. "Tris, you realise you must find this girl, and if possible, bring her here." Tris nodded. "You must also teach her meditation until you find her a proper teacher with the same abilities. Which might be hard, seeing as you don't yet know her abilities."

"Aren't you going to help?" protested Tris.

"It is your duty as an accredited mage to do as much as possible. And the sooner, the better."

Tris looked down. "Alright. I'll go tomorrow after midday. I should be back in time for our lesson."

Niko nodded, content at last. "Alright, young mages, you are free to go."

With a sigh of relief, Daja, Sandry and Briar slipped off their stools to follow Tris out the door.

"Wait a moment, Daja," called out Niko when she was at the door.

"Yes?"

"Next week's lesson could you possibly bring that living metal of yours? I would like to try something."

Daja nodded and left, racing to catch up with the others halfway down the Hub's staircase.

Briar, a former thief, was scanning the wooden flute in his hands with an expert's eye, steady fingers running along the length of the smooth wood. "Quite a piece, eh, Coppercurls?" he commented. "Says here it belongs to a 'Stephanie'."

Tris nodded. "I'm retuning it tomorrow. Would you like to come?" she asked all three.

"Nope. I'm helping Rosethorn renew the medicines at the Mire tomorrow." replied Briar, naming one of the four's foster-mothers.

Daja shook her head, her dark braids slapping her face. "Frostpine told me we're to start on a large project. He wouldn't tell me what it was, though."

Sandry shrugged. "I promised Lark I'd help her make bandages." The noble sighed. "They've run low again."

"Ah well, they're the Water Temple. What can you expect? They're all a bunch of bleat-brains." Briar said frankly, earning himself a glare from a passing Dedicate in the Water Temple's signature blue habit.

The foursome walked across the lawn in silence until the quiet was shattered by an out-of-breath voice calling, "Daja! Hey, DAJA!"

They turned as one to see Frostpine's apprentice, Kirel, jogging towards them. He skidded to a halt before Daja, bracing his hands on his knees as he fought to catch his breath.

_I wonder what he wants, _Briar silently told the three girls through the magical connection they shared.

"Daja, I've been looking for you everywhere! Frostpine's going to Chorum Island on some urgent business, and says he won't be back for a week or two." the tall youth informed them.

"Did he say anything else?" Daja inquired.

"Nothing, but when he was leaving I heard him muttering something about idiots fooling with nature."

"Must have been something bad," Sandry murmured.

"Thanks, Kirel. Do you want to come in for a drink?" Daja offered.

"No, thanks. The Hub's closer. Bye!" He waved to them and headed back the way they came.

"Well, I guess I'll be going with you then, Tris."

"Worse luck, eh?" Briar teased.

Tris grinned and punched him softly as the four teenagers headed towards their home, Discipline Cottage.

oOo

Steph wandered home from Ordie's stall the next day, unaware of a tall dark-skinned girl and and short, pale one following her. As she rounded the corner into a narrow alleyway, a man who looked in his mid-thirties stepped out of the shadows, his hand snaking out to grab Steph's wrist. She jumped in fright, and backed away when she saw a dagger hanging from his belt, only to be roughly pulled back.

"Just gimme your bag an' what's in your pockets an' I'll let ya be," he drawled. Steph grimaced as she smelled spirits on the man's breath.

"Get away from me!" she ordered, wrenching the bony hand off her wrist.

The man growled and lunged forward, grabbing her bag and pushing her into the wall. As he searched though it and pulled out a handful of coins, she crept up behind him, kicking him hard in the shins. When he stumbled and whirled around, Steph was ready. Putting all of her strength behind her hand, she thrust it into his face, hearing the cartilage in his nose break.

He backed up, clutching his nose, eyes watering.

"I'll take that, thankyou very much." she informed him icily, snatching back her bag. As she turned to leave, the man lurched up behind her, dagger in hand.

**Author's note: I'm so sorry I had to leave it here, but I really have to go. I'll do the next chapter tomorrow, promise :)**


	3. Persuasion

Tris and Daja walked though an empty street, arguing.

"I think she went this way." Tris pointed to a slightly larger street to their right.

"No, I'm sure she went that way." Daja replied, indicating an alleyway ahead and to the left.

Tris stopped short as voices floated to her on the wind; voices that had made her once think she was insane.

"Get away from me!" a girl cried out.

Tris grabbed her sister and steered her to the alleyway Daja had mentioned. They peered around the corner and saw a drunk mugging the girl they had been following. When he took her bag and threw her against the wall, Tris pulled off the black tie holding a thin braid next to her face in place. She ran her fingers through the kinked hair, gathering small lightning bolts in her hands.

_No, wait._ Daja requested through their connection, laying a brass-covered hand on Tris's shoulder. The girl was creeping up behind the man. Daja and Tris watched on impressed as the girl attacked the drunk, then took back her bag, glaring at him. She turned and walked away, but behind her the man had whipped a dagger out of his belt.

Tris shrugged off Daja's hand and took a hair-thin bolt of lightning from her hand, throwing it with pinpoint precision down the alleyway. The lightning brushed the dagger and the man dropped it with a yelp. At the sound, the girl turned. Her eyes widened when she saw the man kneeling on the ground, staring with fright at his reddened hand, and she backed up a step when she saw the dagger that lay beside him. Her gaze then moved to the mouth of the alleyway, where Daja and Tris were standing, the redhead with a handful of lightning and a thin braid hanging by her face half undone. Still more lightning rippled and flashed through the braid.

"Hello again." Tris said calmly, weaving her hair and the lightning back into a full braid. She and Daja began to approach the girl. As they passed the kneeling man, Daja picked up the dagger and threw it into a barrel filled with garbage. The drunk rose to his feet and fled.

Daja smiled at the stunned girl and extended a hand. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Daja Kisubo."

"Steph." she muttered, grasping the offered hand. Her eyes fell upon Daja's left hand and widened again. "But that's _metal!_" she exclaimed, staring at the brass coating the palm and back of Daja's hand.

Daja raised her hand and let Steph inspect it. Touching it, she mumbled, "It's warm."

"Flexible too." Daja closed her hand into a fist and opened it again as proof.

Tris knotted the black tie at the end of the braid and reached into her bag. "This, I believe, is yours." She held out the flute to Steph. When she hesitated, Tris smiled. "Don't worry. All the lightning is back in my braid."

Steph grabbed the flute. "So this is where it got to! Thanks."

"Mind if we walk you home?" asked Tris. Steph shook her head, and began walking towards the inn where she lived, Tris and Daja following. As they rounded the corner into the next, slightly larger street, Tris asked, "So, what do you think about magic?"

Steph halted. She whirled, her blazing eyes changing to green. "I _hate_ it!" she cried. It's the reason why I live alone, for gods' sake! she added silently. "Just leave me alone!" She pushed ahead of Daja and ran down the street. Before she rounded the corner, Tris threw a loop of magic around her so they could still follow though at a distance.

_Sandry? _Tris quested. _Can you tell Niko I might be late? This could take a bit longer than I thought._

oOo

After much arguing and persuasion, Tris and Daja had finally managed to get Steph to come with them to Winding Circle. Even though she still denied that she had magic, she agreed to come just for the day to shut them up, and to get Tris's teacher – who specialized in seeing things – to prove to them that she really didn't have any magic.

She sat down at the dining table in Discipline Cottage, propping her chin on pale arms she had folded on the table. Tris had gone for a lesson with Niko, and Daja was left to keep Steph company.

"Would you like some tea?" she asked.

"No thanks. I hate tea. It's gross." she informed Daja.

"Well, would you like some juice? Water? Milk?"

"Juice would be nice, thankyou."

As Daja was pouring pomegranate juice into a cup for Steph, two people walked in, one her age, one who looked to be in her thirties or forties. The teenager flopped into a chair across the table from Steph and announced, "I'd forgotten how exhausting making so many bandages can be." Brushing stay brown hairs from her face, her cornflower blue eyes fell on the girl sitting opposite her, who had straightened the moment she walked in. She smiled. "You must be Stephanie."

Steph leaped from her seat and curtsied low, as was proper in the presence of a noble. "Yes, Lady," she murmured.

"Oh, sit back down." she ordered, flapping a hand at her and letting it drop back onto the table. "I don't care for that sort of fuss. My name is Sandry. No need for the 'Lady' business. I'm too exhausted."

Steph sat back on her chair, but sat up straight.

The older woman slid into the seat next to Steph, her short, black curls tumbling over her thin face. "How about some of Rosethorn's tea, Daja?" she asked.

"Sure, Lark. You too, Sandry?" Sandry nodded, and Daja disappeared into a room down the hall.

Steph stared at her hands clasped on her lap, nervous about being around these strangers. Lark noticed, and smiled warmly at her.

"And who might you be?" she asked.

Steph looked up. "Steph." she mumbled.

"Oh, the one who owns the flute? Tris told me about you. So do you live around the marketplace?" Lark was trying to make conversation, and Steph knew it. She opened her mouth to respond when Tris burst into the room, towing her teacher behind her.

"Now, will you _please _tell her she has magic?" she demanded. "She's just being so stubborn –"

"Remind you of anyone?" Daja grinned, entering the room with a packet of herbs in one hand. Tris ignored the comment. She dragged Niko around the table until he was standing next to Steph.

"Tris, there was no need to yank me so, I have walked by myself for most of my life and can still do so now." he informed the redhead with dignity. "Alright, I will look at her, although I'm surprised she didn't cower in fear say yes to whatever you said when you were yelling at her." Sandry, Daja and Lark choked back laughs, knowing all too well of Tris's fiery temper.

Steph stared at the tall man before her, not knowing what to think of him. His black gaze caught her green one, and she couldn't look away. Finally, he blinked, and turned to Tris. "Yes, she has magic. And a lot of it, too. Not as much as anyone in this room, of course, but quite a fair bit for a beginner."

"_What?_" she asked in disbelief. She couldn't have magic, she just couldn't.


	4. Another fight

**Peoples, plz review. Constructive criticism is very welcome, so are any ideas you'd like to add or things u think I should put in my story. Even if it's just to say, 'this chapter is crap' or 'very good, have a cookie'…**

Steph took her small pile of folded clothes, and packed them as neatly as she could in her bags. Tris, Daja, Sandry and Niko had convinced her to move in to Discipline after learning she lived alone, though they still didn't know why. She placed her beloved flute in top of the clothes, hoping it wouldn't break on the trip. It had been given to Steph by her mother before she died.

She closed her bags and sat on her low bed with a sigh. She didn't _want _to have magic. It was her own father's magic that had caused her to live alone. There was a renown line of good mages in her family, a source of pride, and when Steph was found to have none her father was disappointed and angry, and he seemed to think it was her own fault that she was just an average girl with no magical abilities whatsoever. He was cruel to her and when the chance came he kept her in a deep sleep at the Inn they were staying in on a holiday until miles separated him from his disgraced daughter.

I'll show him, Steph thought. I'll show him that I am just as good as anyone else in my family, if not better. Apparently it was a strange magic she had, only a quarter of all mages had this type of magic. She would practice and learn as much as she could, then show her father the mistake he made in leaving her behind.

oOo

Steph's father, known to all as Jacob Emberglow, tore his dull blue gaze from the misty hills outside his large window. "This is interesting news you bring me, Miriam. Never would I have guessed that she had ambient magic. No one in my family that I know of has it, only academic. But maybe…" he trailed off, running a hand through his graying black hair. He had never asked if there was magic on his wife's side of the family, satisfied that his family's traditional inheritance of it would be sufficient, and she had certainly never mentioned it. But maybe there were people on her side with magical genes as well, though ambient as opposed to academic.

Sensing her master was lost in thought, Miriam cleared her throat and asked, "Um…may I be dismissed, Master Emberglow? I've left my sister in charge of the Inn. I've already been gone a moon and there's still the journey back, and I'd promised I'd be back in only a few weeks."

"Yes…you can leave…thank you, the information was very valuable." He waved a hand at the door vaguely and she left, breathing a sigh of relieve. She liked the girl Steph, and hated herself for spying on the poor teenager. Miriam had become a cross between a mother and a best friend to Steph over the years. However, she was well paid for any useful information and she needed the money.

In the office, Emberglow was pondering. He had heard stories about ambient mages, how they were powerful to start off with whilst academic mages had to strive to increase their magic. He was planning to take over quite a large town to add to his own lands. It would help to have another powerful mage in his ranks, especially if the mage was his daughter, who was brought up to respect her parents with as much respect as she had towards herself, and should therefore take orders without complaint.

After thinking for a while, he finally decided to write to her, inviting her back to his home, promising good treatment and so on. No need to tell her he knew of her magic, for she wouldn't return knowing he didn't care for her but her power. Dipping his brush into an inkwell, he laid it on parchment and began to write.

oOo

Steph woke the next morning before dawn, an unusual feat. She took a moment to gather her surroundings, and to remember where she was. She sat up and looked around. She was on a pallet on the floor of Sandry's room. The noble had offered for Steph to stay in her room the night before. Sandry herself was still asleep in her bed, a lump of crystal threaded with roots and minerals glowing brightly on her bedside table.

Creeping over to the drawer Sandry had emptied for her, Steph pulled out a blue-grey, sleeveless cotton dress that matched the colour of her eyes that morning and changed into it. Sitting on her pallet, she opened a book Tris had lent her and began to read. After a while she stopped; the light from Sandry's crystal was too dim to read from at this distance, making her eyes itch, and she dared not move closer incase she woke her roommate. She put down the book and left the room, deciding to go for a walk.

After wandering around the many buildings at Winding Circle, Steph noticed the sun was beginning to rise, so she began the walk back to Discipline, finding herself lost within minutes. Seeing a group of wealthy looking teenagers nearby, she walked over to ask them for directions.

"Excuse me, but could you please tell me how to get to Discipline Cottage?" she asked. A brunette with a long nose glanced at her and turned back to her friends.

"Did you hear a sound?" she asked her companions. They all glanced at Steph.

A hazel-eyed boy told the brunette, "I don't think so. It's mustn't have been worth our attention."

Steph stiffened. She hated being shunned. People who ignored her often regretted it. "Excuse me," she repeated, raising her voice. "But I asked you for directions to Discipline!" She began to get angry.

When they continued their conversation louder to drown out her voice, she tapped on the hazel-eyed boy's shoulder. "Can you tell me how to get to Discipline?" she asked, loudly and clearly.

The boy faced her, eyes narrowing. "You, a commoner, dare to touch me, a noble?"

"I just did, didn't I?"

He slapped her. "Don't talk to me like that – don't talk to me at all." he ordered.

"I'll do what I want." she replied tartly, slapping him back.

His group gathered around them in a circle chanting, "Fight, fight, fight, fight…"

"You little wench –" He threw his fist at her face but she ducked and swung her leg around, kicking his feet from under him.

Putting a bare foot on his chest she informed him, "Even the lowliest of people deserve a little respect. Fine, I'll ask someone else for directions if you're too stupid to tell me." As soon as she removed her foot, he leapt up and tackled her to the ground.

"It seems I'm going to have to teach _you_ some respect," he snarled, raising his fist again. Instead of being hit, Steph used the hand to pull herself up and bit into it, hard. He screamed in pain but swung his other fist into her stomach, causing her to bend over double and groan in pain. She slid down to the ground. Oh boy, she thought, I'm gonna cop it now.

"Hey!" A voice yelled out over the lawn. A black-haired boy her age was striding towards them. His grey-green eyes glinted in the early twilight. "Hey, leave her alone!" he shouted.

"Excuse me, but we are in the middle of something here. This little wench needs to learn respect to nobles." He kicked Steph in the stomach as she attempted to rise. "If you know what's good for you, leave us be."

The new boy sighed. "If you know what's good for _you_, you'll leave her alone or you'll have _me _to answer to."

"Oho, is that so?" the noble retorted, flicking the newcomer on his blade of a nose. Unnoticed by him, the grass under his feet had grown long and twined itself around his expensively shod feet, holding him firmly where he stood.

"Yep." the black-haired boy replied, shoving him. Unable to step backwards to stabilize himself, he fell onto his back where more long grass bound his arms to the floor, rendering him incapable to rise.

"Maybe if you're extra good, I'll call your friends back to cut you free." the jade-eyed boy replied. The noble's companions had fled when he fell. The boy glanced at Steph, kneeling on the scuffed dirt with her arms wrapped around her stomach. "But on second thoughts, I'll leave you here for someone else to stumble upon." He reached out a hand to the girl.

"Thanks." she gasped, rubbing her stomach as he pulled her up.

"Anytime. So, where are you headed this early in the morning? The food hall? You'll get in trouble if you walk in like this, all covered in mud and with a big tear in your dress."

She shook her head, her golden-brown curls tumbling around her shoulders. "Discipline. Could you show me how to get there?"

"Sure. I was heading there myself. Why would you be going there?" he asked.

"I'm staying there. Some people that also live there said I have magic."

The boy's eye's widened. "You must be Steph. I'm Briar. I live there too. I got back from the Mire really late last night, after everyone was asleep. Oh, and I must say, you're a fair hand in a fight for a commoner. I was watching."

Steph blushed and looked down. "Thanks. I've lived on my own for quite a few years now, and I've learnt a lot of things normal commoners wouldn't have bothered with."

"You've lived on your own?" Briar inquired. "Why?"

Steph stiffened. "I'd rather not talk about it, if you don't mind."

Briar shrugged. "Fine with me." They had reached the gate outside Discipline and Sandry walked out to meet them.

"Steph, you should have told me you were leaving. I woke up and you weren't here, and – oh dear. What happened?" she asked, concerned.

"She was just in a tumble with some snobbish Bag was all." Briar explained.

Sandry glanced at him and smiled. "Oh, Briar, you're back!" she exclaimed, and then turned her attention back to the commoner. "Now, let's see about this dress…" She brushed delicate fingers over the large tear above Steph's knee and the broken threads wriggled and weaved themselves together, mending the hole. She then shook out the skirts and the mud slid off as if her clothes were made of glass, leaving it looking as good as new. "That's better." she approved. "Come in, breakfast is ready."

The three walked in and took seats at the wooden table. Lark, Tris and another woman with chestnut hair dressed as Lark was in an Earth green habit were already seated at the table. As Steph sat down opposite the new woman, her head snapped up.

"You're the new girl?" she demanded. Steph nodded. "Well there are a few rules you need to know. Don't go in my workroom and _don't_ go in my garden. When I am working do not disturb me. Is that clear?" Steph nodded again. "If you break any of these rules, I will –"

"Hang you in the well." Sandry, Tris, Lark and Briar finished off. It was a threat she often used.

"Give her a break, Rosethorn." Daja came downstairs, her ebony Trader's staff thumping.

"_Anyway_, after breakfast we'll need to write up a new chores list."

They ate their porridge in silence for a while, and then Sandry got up to clear the dishes away.

"Girl, can you clean?" demanded Rosethorn. Steph nodded for a third time. "Then you can start with the dusting. Tris will show you where the cloth is. You'll need to earn you're keep whilst you're staying in this house."

**A longer chapter! YOY! OK, so Emberglow is a crap name, but it was all I could think of at the time. Once again, plz review:)**


	5. A Letter

**Sorry about the wait it's just that the school term's started again and I need to do the homework I was supposed to do on the holidays lol I've just been a little preoccupied but ANYWAYS back on track! Chapter 5…**

"Where are we going?" asked Steph.

"Just to the attic. We're to teach you meditation." replied Briar from behind her.

Steph looked back at him. "Meditation? How will that help me learn magic?"

"Before you practice magic you must first learn how to control it. That's where meditation comes in." answered Tris. "Here we are."

They entered the room and sat in a circle. Daja traced a ring outside them with her staff. As she slid down into a cross-legged position, a silver wall of fire enclosed them, forming a bubble about a metre off to all sides.

"Have you meditated before?" asked Sandry from across the circle.

"A little," Steph admitted. "Though I don't think I'm very good at it. I get restless very easily, and I usually give up after about ten minutes."

"Ten minutes is good enough for a beginner." Tris nodded. "OK, I want you to close your eyes –" she made sure Steph's eyes were shut tight before continuing. "Now, what you do is breath in for a count of seven, hold for a count of seven, breath out for a count of seven, hold for a count of seven. Then it begins again. Alright, I'll start counting. One, two, three, four, five, six seven. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven." Tris continued to count softly whilst her siblings used this chance to meditate themselves.

For a few minutes Steph's eyelids continued to twitch and her magic flickered beneath her skin. As she settled into the breathing pattern, her magic flared and broke out from her.

Tris blinked in amazement as bright indigo fire shot in all directions from the tall girl sitting next to her, the light hitting the walls of Daja's protective bubble and rebounding all over the place within. The girl sat in the centre of it all, not moving a muscle. "Alright Steph, open your eyes. Steph…"

The commoner's eyes snapped open and she was dazzled for a moment by the bright lights rebounding all around the inside of the protective globe. When she rubbed her eyes on the backs of her hands and opened them again, the lights were gone, disappearing inside her once more.

"That was very good. I can see you have meditated before. Because you've already got the hang of it, we'll skip ahead to the next stage."

Steph leant back on her elbows and stretched out her legs. "The next stage?" she inquired.

Daja explained, "When you've sunk into the meditation properly and your magic starts breaking out again –"

"That was _mine_?" she interrupted, amazed.

Daja nodded and went on. "When it starts breaking out, imagine pulling all those strands of magic back to you and putting it all into a small object."

Steph tilted her head as she considered this. "Alright," she finally said. "I'll try it." Crossing her legs again, she closed her eyes. This time Sandry counted quietly as Tris meditated.

When Steph had sunk into meditation, she saw in her mind's eye magic shooting out of her in all directions. One by one, she pulled them back and stuffed them into an imaginary flute. After a few minutes she had put all of her magic into the small instrument, which was glowing with a bright, steady, indigo light. She continued to meditate for a long time, all the while keeping a stern eye on the flute in case the magic broke out again. She didn't notice that Sandry had stopped counting and started meditating herself, satisfied that Steph had her magic under control. The five of them sat like that for an hour, cross-legged with their eyes closed, until an irritated Rosethorn barged into the room.

"Come on," she snapped as the teenagers broke out of their meditation. "We've been calling you down for supper for ages!"

Getting to their feet and stretching stiff limbs, the five of them headed downstairs where they were greeted by a large, overly enthusiastic dog.

"Hello!" Steph knelt and laughed as the dog licked her cheek. She scratched him behind the ears. "And who might this be?"

"Down, Little Bear! Down!" Sandry ordered. The big, white dog sat obediently. Lark came out of the kitchen, drawn by Little Bear's loud barks.

"Oh good, you're finished. Supper is on the table. You haven't met Little Bear yet, have you? He's been outside all morning."

Steph gave the dog one last pat and followed the others into the kitchen, where the table was set with meat and vegetables. She grabbed a plate from the bench and spooned some salad onto it. She then took a fork and sat down next to Sandry, where there was a spare seat.

The four siblings, Lark and Rosethorn all crossed their wrists, placing their hands on their shoulders. Steph hurried to do the same. She listened in as they asked the gods to bless their meal, making a mental note to remember the words for next time. They uncrossed their arms and began to eat.

Sandry glanced at Steph's plate. "Is that all?" she commented. "You need to eat more than that, surely?"

Steph shook her head. "I'm not that hungry. I tend to eat more at midday."

"You at least need some meat," protested Sandry, reaching for a dish topped with roasted mutton.

"No, thanks. I don't eat meat."

Sandry sighed and dished a steaming potato and a slice of buttered bread onto her plate. "At least eat this."

At that moment Niko swept into the room. "Hello." he greeted them.

"Good evening, Niko. Would you like to join us?" asked Lark, getting up to fetch another chair.

"No, thankyou. I've come to check up on Steph and to give her this." He pulled a letter from a pocket in his burgundy robe and handed it to her.

She took the letter, muttering her thanks, and opened the wax seal. Quickly she scanned the letter. Her blue-grey eyes widened and she read the letter again, more slowly. She stared at the name at the bottom of the page for several moments before Tris asked impatiently, "What is it?"

"It's from…father." she replied in disbelief.

Tris grabbed the letter from Steph's limp hand and read it aloud.

"_To my dearest daughter Stephanie,_

_I have written to offer my most sincere apologies for the way I acted a few years back. I beg for your forgiveness as I have come to realise the error in my ways, and wish to make it up to you as soon as is possible. Would you like to return home, in Lairan, to live with your family once again? I would give you only the very best accommodation I could, even servants to wait on you if you wished it. I only ask that you come to ease my guilt, and so I can also apologize to you properly, in person._

_I hope, from the bottom of my heart, that you will consider my offer and the opportunities you would have._

_From your loving father, Jacob_

_P.S. Kaye is excited about seeing you again, if you come. She and Rose send her love._

_P.P.S. Rose is currently studying at Lightsbridge in Karang, though she is allowed a few weeks off to visit her family if you are returning to us in Lairan."_

"Who are Rose and Kaye?" asked Briar curiously.

"They're my sisters. Kaye is eight and Rose is eleven. They both have magic." replied Steph. "Should I go? I could never forgive father for what he did to me, but I do love my sisters dearly."

"What _did _your father do to you, anyway?" asked Tris.

In a few short sentences Steph explained about how she had been put into a magical sleep whilst on holiday, and how her father left her and returned home with her sisters.

"Wow," Tris murmured. "That's even worse than what happened to me."

Steph had heard about how the redhead had been passed along to different family members until there was no one left who wanted her, so she was left at a Living Circle Temple.

"Well, if your father treated you that way, why would you even consider going back?" asked Briar.

"Yes, that's true," answered Steph with a troubled look on her face. "But I haven't seen my sisters for years. The last time I saw Kaye was when she was a little toddler learning how to walk. It would be so wonderful to see them again."

Sandry looked thoughtful. "Well, you should go if you want to see your sisters. I'll come with you if you want, in case you run into any trouble." She looked to Lark for permission, who nodded.

"If you're going, I'm coming too." added Tris.

"Me too." said Briar and Daja in unison.

Steph looked at the four gratefully, tears in her eyes. "Are you sure? Oh, thankyou so much!" She hugged them all and ran into Sandry's room to reply to the letter.

Sandry glanced at Steph's plate, seeing that the girl had only eaten her bread and half of the salad. "She really should have eaten more," she said with a shrug.


	6. Travelling

**Please review I luv reviews of any sort except the ones that r just plain mean – and believe me, I've seen some pretty mean ones lol. Any ideas, or constructive criticism…**

Two weeks later, the five teenagers were on their way to the country Lairan, far to the north of Summersea. They were riding atop sturdy horses. For eight days they had been travelling with a Trader caravan headed for Yushuti, a city on the border of Lairan and Karang, it's eastern neighbour. The sun was behind snow-capped mountains to the far west, throwing a red-orange glow throughout the land, when the caravan halted. The four siblings and Steph slid off their horses, wincing, and tied their mounts to stakes hammered deep into the earth.

Steph stretched out her arms and legs, bending to touch her toes then reaching her arms to the sky. "I hate sitting in the one spot for too long," she muttered to no one in particular.

Tris approached the girl, who was now scavenging in her saddlebags for leftover food from earlier on that day. "C'mon, we're dining with the Traders tonight."

Steph nodded. "Plum?" she offered, holding out one and biting into another.

Tris smiled and accepted the fruit as the two of them walked over to where some of the caravan, Briar, Sandry and Daja were seated around a warm, crackling fire.

Steph took a large chunk of bread from a boy holding a platter of it and sat next to Briar, nibbling on it. Tris, with a plate filled with steaming food, plopped down next to her. For half an hour or so, the four siblings told Steph stories about things that had happened at Winding Circle since they were all brought there. They were telling her about how Tris rescued a starling named Shriek when the caravan's _gilav_, or leader, hobbled over, leaning on her Trader's staff. The woman looked in her late fifties or sixties, with her long, silvery hair in a single braid that trailed down her back. Laugh lines framed her kind, dark eyes, and her coppery skin gleamed in the firelight.

Daja leapt to her feet, bowing Trader style to the old woman. "Good evening, _gilav_ Lanishta," she said.

Lanishta nodded her head, acknowledging Daja's greeting. She turned her gaze to Steph, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, looking up at her. The _gilav _smiled. "I hear you play music." Steph nodded, and Lanishta continued. "Are you any good at reading music by sight?"

"I'm alright at it." the commoner admitted, smiling.

"Would you like to play some songs for the caravan? I could give you the music."

"Of course." Steph grinned at Lanishta and ran to her saddlebags to fetch her flute as the _gilav_ asked a young girl to get the music sheets.

Steph soon returned, sitting back down again, not caring for her violet skirts, which were now hopelessly crumpled and smudged with dirt. As a young girl handed her a few sheets of parchment with music written on them, Steph blew softly on her flute, trying a few experimental notes to see if the instrument was damaged at all during the journey. Satisfied with the sound, the young teenager scanned over the sheets of parchment for a few moments before placing them on the ground before her so that she could see every page.

As Steph started to play, Daja recognized the tune as an old family favourite. The memory of her brothers, sisters, parents, aunts, uncles, and cousins singing, dancing and laughing on the deck of the family ship, the Third Ship Kisubo, brought tears to her eyes, yet she began to sing to the melody anyway. With a small tear running down her bronze cheek, she motioned for the other Traders to join her.

With the women singing high sopranos and the men singing in their low voices with the quavering flute to guide them, the effect was beautiful. Children danced around the fire, laughing and swinging each other around.

Tris nudged Sandry, who was standing next to her, tapping a leather-shod foot on the ground in time with the rhythm. "Look," she whispered, gesturing towards Steph who continued to play. A slivery gleam was building around her hands and the flute. As they watched, a thread of magic broke loose, snaking towards the people in front of her. Steph slightly tilted her head to one side, all the while playing her flute without stopping. The thread of magic stopped in its tracks and quickly retreated, to return to the gleam around the flute. "Fast learner, isn't she?"

Sandry grinned. "You can say that again."

The Traders danced and sang for a while, before they decided it was time and past for the young children to go to sleep. Steph set up a bedroll on the grass; it was a warm night, and she liked looking at the stars. She lay back with her hands behind her head, feeling wide-awake. As she listened to the drone of mosquitoes and the splashing of frogs in a nearby pond, she finally drifted off to sleep, feeling at peace with everyone and everything for the first time in a long while.

oOo

The Trader caravan set off shortly after dawn, the five young teenagers bringing up the rear. They rode in silence for a while, not speaking when the caravan stopped by a stream a few hours before midday, to water their animals and to have a rest. As they all climbed back onto their mounts or into their carriages, Steph pulled herself onto her own mare. Looking around for only a moment, she saw the four mages were beckoning her to join them halfway up the line of trailers and horses that made up the caravan.

Steph trotted her mare forward until she was between Briar and Daja. As the caravan started forwards again, she asked them, "So, will you finish telling me about Shriek?"

They laughed and continued to tell her about Tris's fruitless attempts to teach the bird how to fly, when she couldn't herself. Steph was laughing along with them when she felt something sharp in her mind, like a warning twinge.

She pulled up short, no longer laughing, her pale face twisting into a look of confusion. All of a sudden, a searing pain washed over her. She tried to push it off with her magic, builing up a wall of resistance, not really expecting it to work. She gasped in pain as a loud roaring sound filled her ears. She felt like her very bones were on fire. Her muscles screamed. Biting her lip until it bled, she clutched her head in agony. The pain blinded her, her sightless eyes streaming.

Briar heard a sharp intake of breath behind him. As he twisted around in his saddle, he saw Steph fall off her mare in a dead faint.

oOo

Emberglow was sitting in a chair placed before his window, staring into the distance. He stretched his magic far over many miles, searching. At last he found the one he was looking for: the person that was unmistakably his first daughter. He meant to test her, see how strong she was. Now was the ideal moment, when she was miles away, where he wouldn't be suspected.

He let his magic wash over her. He was seeing how well she resisted. When she didn't show any sign of pain at the touch of his magic, only pulling up short in obvious confusion, he pushed more magic at her, far more. His magic self watched, interested, as she struggled to build up a wall of power, but his magic was too overpowering. She lost the battle to stay conscious and fell off her horse.

He returned back to his physical self in time to hear a soft voice. "Father?"

He jumped in surprise as he felt a small hand land on his shoulder. He wheeled around, scowling, and came face to face with a young girl. "_What_ have I told you about knocking?" he yelled at her.

She instantly reclined, fear etched all over her youthful face. "I-I did," she stammered. "But you didn't answer."

"Get out!"

The eight-year-old fled, her blue eyes spilling over. Emberglow felt a twinge of guilt, but instantly pushed the feeling away. There are more important matters at hand, he thought. Matters more important than a whining little brat.

oOo

Steph woke half an hour later. She heard two voices whispering loudly before a third person hissed, "Shh! You'll wake her!"

Opening her eyes, she saw she was in a wagon, lying on a pallet set up in there. She blinked a few times andnoticed she shared the wagon with Sandry, Tris and Briar. She groaned and attempted to raise a heavy arm to rub the sleep from her eyes. "How long have I been out?" she croaked.

"Two days." replied Briar with a straight face.

The commoner gasped and fell off the pallet in shock. Sandry elbowed a laughing Briar hard in the ribs and helped Steph back onto her pallet, explaining she had only been unconscious for half on hour. As she attempted to sit up, her head span and she fell back down onto her pallet. "What happened?"

"Briar said he saw you faint and fall of your horse." answered Tris. "You nearly got trampled. We brought you in here. Why'd you faint?"

Steph strained her memory, trying to remember what happened. "Well…" she began. "I felt this sharp twinge in my mind. Then something sorta just washed over me, and it hurt. It hurt so bad I must have passed out from the pain. I tried to put up a protective wall -" she blinked and shook her head, wincing. "It just pushed through."

Briar, Sandry and Tris traded glances. "Magic," they chorused.

Steph laid her cool palm on her forehead, slightly easing the dull pounding she was feeling. "Magic? But who's got it in for me?"

Shrugging, Briar pulled a small vial out of acloth casehe had told Steph was his 'mage kit'. "Could be anybody," he said frankly. "Have some of this, it'll help with the headache."

oOo

A few days later, Briar, Sandry, Daja, Tris and Steph rode through a tall, iron gate. A man waiting by the gate showed them where the stables where, then took them to the front entrance of an extremely large house. A footman then showed them up to a study, knocking on the double doors.

It swung open, and a man in his late forties stood there. He stared in surprise at the five young teenagers before him. None of them looked one bit familiar. One of them is my first child, he realized. He sized each of them up. There was a golden-skinned boy with black hair, obviously foreign. He wasn't Emberglow's child. A bronze-skinned girl with long, black hair in a multitude of thin braids observed him with dark eyes, leaning on a Trader staff. She definitely wasn't the daughter of Emberglow. But any one of the remaining three could be his; the slim brunette with cornflower blue eyes, the plump, bespectacled redhead or the tall girl with curly hair and grey-green eyes to match the boy's.

The girl with the curly hair stepped forwards, chin high. "Are you Jacob Emberglow?" she asked regally. He nodded, thinking, this must be her. "I am Stephanie, your first daughter." she said, as if reading his mind. She curtsied politely and continued, "Please let me introduce my friends. This is Briar Moss, Daja Kisubo, Trisana Chandler and Lady Sandrilene fa Toren." She pointed to each in turn. "They have travelled with me from Summersea in Emelan, and I hope you will be kind enough to accommodate them during our stay."

Emberglow studied the tall youth before him. She was dressed as an ordinary commoner in a thin, sleeveless, cotton dress of an eye-catching shade of green, with the long sleeves of the white blouse she wore underneath rolled up to her elbows.

Thinking he should do something, he strode over to Steph and embraced her. She stiffened in his hold, not returning the warm gesture. Emberglow stepped back, surprised. Staring up at him with grey-green eyes that betrayed none of her inner feelings Steph asked in an emotionless voice, "I'd like to meet Kaye and Rose, if you please."

**Please review and tell me wot u think. If you don't I'll… I'll… I'll sentence u 2 watching the weather channel 4 the rest of ur life! -shines torch on face- MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Hey, where'd this torch come from? Sorry I'm on a bit of a high… please review with any ideas for the story, comments… oh yeah, and wot would u rate this fanfic out of ten? The more people that review, the sooner I'll update…**


	7. Family Reunion

**If I take longer updating its coz I'm starting my second fanfic. It's pretty suckish compared to this one though. Remember, review!**

The footman led the teenagers out to a back courtyard where a young girl around the age of eight was lying on her stomach, drawing a picture, whilst another girl three years older watched her silently from a stone bench.

As the five approached the two girls, the older one looked up. Bright blue eyes blinked from behind round spectacles that sat on her freckled nose. Her long, light brown hair hung in twin braids, like Sandry's. She stood, smoothing out her long, blossom-pink dress.

The movement attracted the youngest girl's attention. She rolled onto her back and sat up. When she saw the visitors she stood next to the older girl, holding onto her arm. She had hair a few shades lighter than the other girl, cut so it just brushed her shoulders. She shared the same colour eyes as her as well.

Steph smiled and stepped forwards, tears forming in her grey-green eyes. "You two must be Rose and Kaye."

"How does she know our names?" the younger girl hissed audibly.

"Yes we are. Who wants to know?" asked the older girl in a loud voice, with her chin high.

Steph paused, then replied, "It's me, Steph. Your sister."

The younger girl hesitated, then ran forwards, flinging her arms around Steph's midriff, knocking all the air out of her lungs. "Steph! I thought you would never come! I've always wanted to see you. I'm Kaye. It'll be so great having a big sister around again! Rose is always at Lightsbridge now, and I've no one to play with."

Steph looked down at the girl with saddened eyes. "I'm only staying for a little while," she explained softly.

Kaye stepped back. She looked like she was going to cry, but she recovered quickly. "I suppose it's better than nothing, and whilst you're here, Rose will be too!" she beckoned to her older sister, who stood back. "Stop being so shy, Rose! She's your sister too, and you _said _you still remembered her a bit."

Rose hesitated, then moved forwards. Steph strode over to her and hugged her softly. "Do you really?"

Steph stepped back and Rose nodded. "A little," she admitted. "You used to read me stories."

Steph smiled.

Kaye noticed the other four teenagers standing a bit behind and stared at them with wide eyes. "Who are you?" she asked bluntly.

Steph grinned. "Oh, I forgot introductions. Briar, Tris, Sandry and Daja. They're my friends, and they'll be staying here with me."

Rose glanced at the four. She closed her eyes and removed her glasses, touching her eyelids with long fingers. She opened her eyes again and looked at the mages closely. Instantly, she threw her arms up to shield them with a yelp.

"What's wrong?" Kaye asked, concerned.

Rose rubbed her watering eyes vigorously and replaced her glasses ever her slightly red eyes. "You guys are _powerful_! How'd you get so _strong?_" she exclaimed. "My magic is just a spark compared to yours, yours is like a roaring fire!" She blinked her still watering eyes as comprehension dawned on her face. "Oh, _now_ I remember! You're the mages from the south, the ones that killed pirate fleets and destroyed bush fires! We learnt about you in Lightsbridge. It's such an honour to meet you; my teachers would be so envious if they knew you were staying with me." She looked at the teenagers with awe and respect.

The siblings glanced at each other. Tris looked at Rose and said, "I'm not proud of sinking those ships. It's awful, thinking about how many slaves I'd drowned with the pirates."

"Yeah, but still, it must be great having so much magic in store."

The seven stood in silence until Kaye tugged on Steph's rolled-up sleeve. "I'll give you a tour of the house." she said brightly. "My room is on the second level."

Steph grinned and let herself be led by her cheerful little sister, beckoning the others to follow.

**OK, so this is a really short chapter, but oh well. Maybe I'll be more encouraged to write longer chapters and update sooner if I get more reviews… plz update, or recommend to people who WILL update, u know, ideas, constructive criticism, evaluations…**


	8. Kidnapped

**Wow…5 reviews…guess I'm gonna have to update faster :S Alrighty then, chapter…how many is it now? 8? Sorry for that last short chapter, but it was kind of compulsory, so I could introduce the sisters, and if I did something big it would be way too long and I don't like cutting them short coz I know how much everyone hates cliffhangers ) Oh and also sorry for the long wait I just thought I should make this chapter long to make up for the short chapter and I was sick and I had homework and is anyone really buying my excuses? Hello… …?**

After more than two weeks of meditation, Steph's teachers decided to advance on her lessons. They brought her up onto the roof of the building and once again sat in a circle. This time Briar walked around them, leaving a line of herbs in his wake. As he resumed his seat, another bubble of protection encased them.

Tris began to speak. "We've decided that you have complete control over your power, and can now move on from meditation, although you still must meditate every day," Tris informed the commoner. "The point of today's lesson is to find out how you can use your magic. What we know so far is that it helps you play music easily. Now, when we were watching you play your flute for the Traders, we saw magic trying to escape, but it didn't because you now have power over it. But when you were playing music before you came to Winding Circle, you didn't even know you had magic, let alone know how to control it. Did anything happen to your audiences before?"

Steph stared into the distance, trying to remember. "Well," she started slowly. "When I played at the market, I used to hope every time that people would listen and throw money for my friend's food stall. As soon as I thought that, they would gather around and not leave until the end of the song. I always thought it was a coincidence."

"There aren't many coincidences when it comes to magic," Daja said grimly.

Tris absently fiddled with a loose thread on the hem of her skirt, thinking. "I think maybe you can control people with your magic, through music," Tris murmured. "Or at least to some extent."

"I can control people just by playing music? " Steph asked doubtfully.

"I suppose. But I think that people without magic are more vulnerable. Mages would probably have some form of resistance, which you might be able to overcome with a fair bit of practice."

Steph considered this. "How can we be sure?"

"We could help."

The five jumped and looked around. Sitting on the roof just outside Briar's protective bubble were Rose and Kaye watching on with interest. Steph watched as the silver wall of fire slowly filtered away into Briar and he scuffed his foot through the circle of herbs.

Rose got to her feet. She brushed off her pink skirts, shaking out the rooftop dust it had collected. She walked over to them, Kaye in tow.

Sandry looked at them thoughtfully. "Yes, they could help," she told Tris. "Maybe Steph could play her flute and try to make them do something."

Tris nodded. "Alright. First we need her –"

"Flute!" interrupted Kaye, holding out the instrument. "I took the liberty of getting it, in case you needed it, Steph," she explained as they all turned to look at her.

"Thanks…" Steph took the flute from the girl's outstretched hand and looked at it. "Now what?

Briar motioned for the two newcomers to join their circle before refilling the gap he made in the circle of herbs and raised the protective barrier again. The five teenagers shuffled around, making room for Rose and Kaye.

Looking at the flute in her hands, Steph murmured, "Now what?"

Sandry hesitated before suggesting, "Start playing your flute and concentrate really hard on making your sisters do something…like…standing on their hands, for example. Oh, and try and direct your magic at them instead of keeping it back."

Steph shrugged, her green eyes glittering with interest. "I'll try."

Breathing in, Steph closed her eyes, brought the flute to her lips and began to play a lively tune. In her mind she pictured her newfound sisters standing on their hands like tumblers. Remembering the advice Sandry had given her, she let a load of her magic loose. To her dismay, she discovered that it was far too much for her to control, and the mass of magic let itself decide who their victim would be.

Briar was watching on, wondering what would happen. All of a sudden, he felt himself lift upside down, and found he was supporting himself on his hands. He wobbled for a moment before crashing to the ground.

"Ouch," he mumbled as he picked himself up.

Tris struggled to hide a grin. "Try letting out less magic, it'll be much easier to control."

Steph rolled her eyes. "State the obvious."

"Niko was right, you _are_ powerful." Briar was now sitting again, and rubbing his head; he had bumped it when he fell. "Even though I was spending a bit of magic on the barrier, no weak mage could've done that."

"But I wasn't aiming for you."

Daja shrugged. "Try again."

Sighing once more, Steph closed her eyes and began to play again.

oOo

After many more unsuccessful tries, Steph finally managed to make Kaye cartwheel around their circle, though she bumped into the magical barrier innumerable times and squashed a great load of fingers.

Sandry applauded her. "Nice job," she approved. "I think you've done enough for today."

Steph sighed and stepped out of the circle of herbs surrounding them after Briar collapsed their protection. "What do you want to do now?" she asked, stretching stiff muscles.

"It's suppertime now, didn't you hear the bell before?" replied Kaye, racing down the stairs and into the house.

Steph started with surprise, having just realised that the sky had darkened to a deep indigo. "How long have we been out here? I thought we'd only been here for an hour or two."

"Nearly half the day," Rose informed her, yawning. "We had better get down to supper, the bell rang about ten minutes ago."

The six walked towards the open trapdoor on the roof in silence until Tris halted, her normally pale face turning white.

Sandry rested a hand on her shoulder, looking concerned. "Tris, what's wrong?"

Tris rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand. "I heard something…" she muttered. "A scream…"

The sounds continued to flow to Tris's sensitive ears. A girl screamed again, but the cry was cut off as if someone had clamped a hand over her mouth. Then came a thump, and the sound of something heavy being dragged across the floor.

Tris raced to the trapdoor and quickly went down into the house.

"Tris, what's up?" asked Briar.

"Someone's in trouble. Hurry up! We've got to find them!" she snapped from below.

Sandry, Briar, Daja, Steph and Rose all followed Tris down the ladder, picking up their pace. They stood in the corridor, looking around for where the short redhead had disappeared to.

"In here!" Tris called out from a door to their left. They clambered in to find the former-merchant reading a scrap of parchment. Her stormy grey eyes widened behind her thick, round glasses and she thrust the parchment into Steph's hands. "You'd better read this."

Steph squinted at the scrap in her hands, trying to make out the hastily written, untidy scrawl. She scanned it once then read it aloud.

"_We have taken your child, Emberglow. If you want to see her again, return our village to us immediately. We will meet you by the edge of the forest tomorrow at midnight so you can formally hand the contract over to the rightful town leader. If you are not there, we'll kill the girl._

"_The townspeople of Doronall._"

"Kaye," whispered a horrified Rose.

Sandry put an arm around the younger girl's shoulders. "Don't worry," she assured her. "We'll find your sister."

"Hey, I think I know how they got away," said Briar. He walked over to the open window and pulled in a rope that had been tied securely around a thick nail hammered into the windowsill. The rope was long enough to touch the grass four storeys below.

Rose ran over to the window and leaned out, hoping to see the kidnappers escaping across the lawns. Unfortunately, the sky had darkened still more, making it impossible to see the ground below.

Daja wandered over to the other two and looked out of the window, seeing the thick nail hammered deep into the sill. Grasping it with her magic, she yanked hard, pulling the nail free. It fell down four storeys as the Trader muttered, "Let's not make it easier for next time."

"We've got to find her!" cried Steph. She raced to the door and flung it open. A startled, blonde maid stood just outside, her hand raised in a knocking position.

Regaining her posture, she informed them in an accent from the western countries, "Master Emberglow is waitin' for you in the dinin' room."

"We're a little busy now, if you don't mind," replied Steph. She pushed past the maid and ran down the hall, Rose close behind.

The four foster-siblings glanced at each other and followed Steph and Rose at a run.

The maid raced to catch up with them. "Wait!" she cried. "Please, miss, wait!"

Following the teenagers and child down four flights of stairs, she caught them before the front door. Standing in front of them with her arms crossed over her chest she demanded in a slightly out-of-breath voice, "_Where_ do you children think you are goin'?"

"Kaye's been kidnapped!" cried Rose. "We've got to find her!"

The maid turned white. "Kidnapped?" she whispered. "My master won't be at all happy 'bout this."

"So that's why we have to chase after the kidnappers, _now_!" Steph exclaimed, wringing her hands in anxiety. "_Please_ let us through!"

The maid shook her head, her blue eyes wide. "Master Emberglow would skin me alive! If you leave this house, you might be taken as well!"

"We don't care! Let us through!" shouted Rose. "My sister is out there, she might be killed, and you're keeping us all locked up in this house?"

"Yes!" the blonde servant yelled. "You don't know how much trouble I'd get in if –"

"Let us through." Tris interrupted quietly. A breeze was picking up inside the front hall, though the door and windows were shut tight for the night.

"I will not take orders from an uninvited _child_ guest," the maid informed her haughtily. "Not when have clear orders from my master to not let _children_ out after dark."

Despite the fact that Tris still spoke quietly, everyone could hear her. "We're running out of time. Don't make me move you."

The blonde laughed. "And what makes you think you can?"

Tris raised her nearly invisible brows. "I am an accredited mage. I deal in weather, and more importantly, _lightning. _I am able to move whomever I want whenever I want. Now, _move_!"

The maid laughed again, clearly unbelieving.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Tris muttered, and slammed a wall of hard air into the servant, throwing her backwards and into the wall. Tris ran to the door and held it open for the others. "Come on. We're running out of time." she repeated.

oOo

Emberglow stared unseeingly at the empty seats before him. Why had no one come yet? The bell had been rung nearly twenty minutes ago. He had sent a maid to look for them, of course, but neither she, his guests nor his daughters had turned up.

He took a large bite out of the leg of chicken he was holding. He knew it was rude to start eating before everyone was seated, but the old mage was never one for proper etiquette.

At that moment, the door at the back of the dining room burst open, and a maid rushed in. Her blonde curls were escaping their pins and her pale cheeks were flushed. "Master! I got here as fast as I could!" she gasped, clutching a stitch in her side. "Master…I tried to stop them…"

Emberglow stood, dropping the chicken onto his plate. "Stop who?"

The maid stared at him with blue eyes widened in fright. "The…the girls…and the guests…"

"You tried to stop them from doing _what_, exactly?" he asked sternly.

"Oh, Master, Miss Kaye has been kidnapped, and they've gone after her!" she cried.

Anger coursed through the mage. He strode over to the maidservant and slapped her. "You stupid woman!" he snarled, enraged. "You've let my daughters escape!"

The blonde maid cringed. "I tried to stop them, Master, I truly did, but the fat one, the redhead, she has magic! She says she is accredited, and she turned her power on me!"

About to hit the maid again, Emberglow stopped in his tracks. "What?" he asked in wonder. "But she's only Stephanie's age! _Accredited_, you say?"

The maid nodded frantically. "Yes, Master. She says she deals in lightning."

The old mage mulled this over in his head, not noticing the young maidservant creeping away from him. Accredited, at around the age of fourteen? She must be extremely good to have her credential at the age of fourteen! he thought, amazed. I didn't get _my_ credential until I was nearly thirty! I must take her into my ranks…and of course, lightning would be _very _useful.

**Whew, 6 pages on Microsoft Word! Beat THAT, Millie! Again, review…pretty please? There's an awful lot of italics in this story, hmm… Happy Easter! Hey, I just realised the similarities between two of the characters' names - Rose and Briar! Get it? Roses and Briars are the same thing lol**


	9. Searching

**This is getting harder to write! But I am having fun writing it. If I don't update as often, don't blame me. We've got heaps of homework and now I've gotta do an hour of piano practice every day! But of course, ''I'll thank mum for making me practice someday''. Sure. Just keep telling yourself that.**

"Ouch! You stepped on my foot!"

"Sorry!"

"I can't see a thing!"

"Oh this is pathetic," Tris mumbled. There was a shuffling sound and a crackle, and the surrounding forest was thrown into relief. The source of the light was a small ball of lightning shining from the redhead's hand. "That's better."

Tris, Sandry, Daja, Briar, Steph and Rose all peered through the trees around them. They couldn't see very far, considering the density of the forest.

Briar sent out a silent command to the surrounding plants to see if they knew of any people moving nearby. The reply sent Briar the knowledge that three people were heading northwest.

Briar nodded in that direction. "That way," he instructed the others.

They had travelled northwest for about ten minutes when Rose tripped over a loose tree root with a grunt. When Steph turned around, she saw her little sister sprawled on the ground.

"I'm fine," Rose assured her companions. "Just a twisted ankle – go on ahead, I'll catch up." She pulled herself into a sitting position, rubbing her ankle.

However, the five teenagers had only taken a few steps when they heard a scream. They looked behind them to see Rose on her stomach once more. Behind her, someone dressed all in black was pulling her along the forest floor by her ankle, seemingly oblivious to the lightning in Tris's small hand.

With an effort, Rose pushed herself onto her side to get a good look at her assailant. A split second later, fire gathered at her fingertips and she flung it at the attacker's hands. The stranger yelped and let go of Rose's ankle. As quick as a flash the young mage was on her feet and running towards the others.

Out of the gloom, more dark figures appeared. A quick glance upwards showed archers hiding in the treetops.

"We're surrounded," whispered a mortified Rose. "What will we do?" She looked expectantly at the older five.

Tris was already undoing some of her thicker braids, gathering lightning bolts much larger than the ones she had used to light the forest. As she pulled out the lightning from her kinked, red hair, it flew from her hands to form a crackling, fiery globe of protection around them. "That'll keep out those on foot, but I'm not sure if it will stop the archers – there are gaps," admitted the plump redhead.

Sandry reached out with her magic, feeling for the quivers of arrows. She grabbed the threads holding them together and yanked them out.

The others watched as the archers' quivers fell apart at the seams. They looked at Sandry who smiled in satisfaction.

Daja drew heat from the ground far beneath them and slowly made it flow into the weapons the attackers were holding. The assailants glanced at the weapons that were warming up in their hands. The confusion on their faces was clear in the bright light radiating from the globe of lightning. Confusion suddenly turned to pain as the weapons became too hot for them to handle. One by one, they dropped their knives, daggers, and other weapons until they were all barehanded.

Holding out her hands, Daja silently called to the metal in the weapons. They flew towards the barrier and Tris made a wide hole to allow them to pass through, then covered it up again.

Confused and alarmed, the attackers ran for the cover of darkness and were soon swallowed up by shadows.

"What now?" asked Steph. "There could be more of them."

Tris re-braided the lightning from the shield into her hair as Briar thought for a moment then suggested, "We should split up. It's easier to attack people in a large group."

Sandry nodded in agreement. "I'll go with Daja and Rose. You three can go together." She nodded towards Steph, Briar and Tris.

Steph was worried about being separated from Rose, but then she remembered how Rose escaped her attacker and was probably very capable of protecting herself. Also, she would be in the company of two accredited mages. "OK."

"Great." Daja grabbed Rose's hand and began pulling her away from the others. "C'mon, Sandry. We've got to find Kaye before anything really bad happens to her." In her free hand she summoned a ball of fire, using it to light her way. Sandry hurried after them, leaving Briar, Steph and Tris alone in the clearing.

Tris finished tying the black cord that held her braid together, leaving a single, small lightning bolt in her hand to light their way. "We should keep going this way," she instructed Steph and Briar. "I can hear voices coming from there."

Steph took a deep breath and let it out as a heavy sigh. "Alright. Let's do this. The sooner the better."

oOo

Emberglow was once again at his window, peering at the forest through his spyglass. One of his mages, a solemn fellow by the name of Snowstorm, stood beside him.

Emberglow lowered his spyglass, amazed. "Lightning?" he whispered. "Oh, this spyglass is useless. Show me the children," he ordered Snowstorm.

Snowstorm nodded and touched the glass window, staring at it intently. At the touch, the glass reflected the image of six people standing inside a dome of lightning. A closer look showed one of them, the redhead, had lightning crawling over her braids and hands. As they watched, a number of weapons passed through a hole in the shield to fall to the Trader's feet.

"It is amazing, sir. They are but children!" exclaimed Snowstorm.

Emberglow nodded absently. "Indeed…"

**Sorry about that short chapter, but I've really gotta finish my project. Once again, please review with comments, constructive criticism, ideas, blah blah blah…**


	10. Bridge

**Thanx for the reviews… yes, no really long author's note as usual… "This is creepy," whispered Rose as she stumbled through the forest track. Daja was in front of her, Sandry bringing up the rear.**

The Trader nodded grimly. "I think we're catching up. There's metal nearby. I can sense it."

Sandry sighed with relief. "Good. It's really dark in here. I can't wait until we get back to the house." In her pale hand was the lump of crystal threaded with veins of minerals and dirt that she usually kept in a leather pouch around her neck. Because Sandry was afraid of the dark, Tris, Briar and Daja had put light it so it shone brightly and steadily.

Daja slowed for a moment, sniffing the air. "We're really close. C'mon!" She sped up, Rose and Sandry in tow. She broke clear of the forest and would have fallen off the edge of the sharp cliff there if Rose and Sandry hadn't grabbed her arms.

"You gave me a fright there, Daja!" exclaimed Sandry as they pulled her back. "Slow down, and look where you're going!"

Daja ignored her and looked down the cliff. Far below was a dirty river, splashing innocently past rocks, dragging tree branches along with the current. She glanced across at the opposite bank. The feel of metal came from amongst the trees over there. The bank was about six or seven metres across, and they had no way over.

"We may have a problem on our hands."

oOo

Steph sighed as she stumbled over yet another loose tree root. "We've been walking for _ages_. How do we even know we're going the right way?"

Tris stopped. "We don't. Did you know I can hear things on the wind?" Steph shook her head, making her ponytail swing wildly. "Well, I can. I've sent out some of my breezes but they haven't brought back anything useful."

A silent call from Sandry interrupted her.

_Tris, we need you over here._

Tris felt for her connection with her two foster-sisters. It was reasonably short, and leading off northwest.

_We'll be there in a minute._

The redhead turned to Briar. "Did you hear that?"

Briar nodded. "Let's go."

They crashed through the forest for the next fifteen minutes before finally finding Sandry, Daja and Rose sitting by the edge of a cliff.

"What's the problem?" asked Tris.

Daja inclined her braided head towards the cliff. Tris stumbled over and looked down, taking in the river and the distance between it and where they were.

"We figure that since it's a river you might be able to help us somehow. We need to get across – we think they're on the other side."

Tris thought for a moment, chewing on one of her thin lightning braids. Steph shuddered, having seen on more than one occasion what those braids contained. "Doesn't that hurt you?"

Tris ignored her. "It really depends how deep the river is, and how strong the current is. And I have no way of getting us down there, unless we were to climb."

Rose's eye's widened in horror as she gulped, "Climb? Down the cliff?"

Tris nodded gravely. "It's the only way to get to your sister."

Briar, who was inspecting the far side of the river, said, "Sandry, there's a bridge over there."

Indeed, a bridge was hanging of the cliff on the opposite side. The ropes at the end were tied to two trees, but the side of the bride that was supposed to be connected to the bank on which the teenagers were standing had been cut. A closer look showed the severed ends of rope tied tightly around two trees near where Sandry was sitting.

Sandry nodded. "Yes, I noticed. But what had that got to do with me – oh!" She slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand. "I'm so stupid!"

She stood, brushing pine needles off her blue skirts, and walked to the very edge of the cliff. She held out her arms, as if beckoning something to her.

"What's she doing?" whispered Rose. "I can see magic, but I don't know what she's trying to do…"

Briar, who overheard, stepped towards Rose. "She's calling to the rope on the bridge, so she can reconnect it. She's a stitch witch."

Rose peered closer and saw the ropes wriggle against the cliff face. They seemed to be struggling against something.

"The wood is making it too heavy," Sandry informed the others. "Briar, that's with your magic, isn't it?"

Shaking his head he replied, "That wood is dead."

"I'll help," offered Tris. She conjured winds around her, and then directed them to the bridge to push it towards them. With the combined efforts of Sandry's magic and Tris's winds, the bridge swung up to meet them, the frayed ends of the rope landing in Sandry's hands.

"Hold this," she ordered, thrusting one rope at Tris. She walked to one of the trees tied with rope and grabbed the end of the thick cord. She held the two ends of rope together with one hand, passing the other hand on top. She let go, and the rope was whole.

Businesslike, she reclaimed the other rope from Tris and repeated the process until the bridge stretched across the river evenly. She stepped onto the first plank of wood and turned around. "Well, are you coming?"

Rose shivered. "Are you sure it's safe?"

Briar followed Sandry then turned back and grinned wickedly at the young mage. "Of course not!"

**Aah…they're nearly there… sorry, but I have other fanfics to update now… cyaz! Review and you get a cookie!**


	11. Battle

**Aaaah sorry for the long wait, but I have reasons for not updating. You want the truth? OK. You probably wont believe it, but I was held captive by cookie-loving, flying bisons. It's true. And a confession – I lied about the cookies. I ate them all on the way here. Sorry. I would make you some more, but… I am too lazy… I'll get Lauren to do it… oh and I'm not as in to writing fanfiction, so try not to expect regular updates. Be glad you are getting one this year Think of it as a spring treat!**

Reaching the opposite bank, Steph sighed in relief. "Phew," she breathed. "That was scary." Glaring at Briar with green-tinged, grey eyes, she added, "And there was no need to shake the bridge every time Rose stepped onto a new plank!"

Smiling, he replied, "I know."

Sandry rested her hand on Rose's shoulder, offering comfort. "You've terrified the poor dear!" she scolded her brother.

Briar shrugged. "OK, we're here. Now let's see where these cursed kidnappers are hiding out." The boy picked his way carefully over to a large oak and laid his tattooed palm on the rough bark surface. Spreading his magic through the tree, he travelled in a form no more than a presence through the many roots and vines along the ground, spreading out in all directions but backwards. Suddenly he hit a dead end. The thick, broad root he was travelling along had been jaggedly cut off at the end; as if someone none to skilled with an axe was collecting firewood. Shooting back to his body, he pointed his arm in the direction he had felt the cut. "That way."

The young group picked their way through the undergrowth until Briar stopped still. _They're in a clearing just beyond these bushes here,_ he told his sisters through mind-speech, gesturing at the shrub before them. He nodded at Rose and Steph to indicate that they were almost there. _What should –_

Briar was interrupted by a sharp cry. "Let me _GO!_"

All heads snapped towards the sound of that familiar voice. Rose opened her mouth but Steph clamped her hand firmly over it. "Don't speak," she mouthed, her grey eyes changing to green and glittering dangerously.

The youthful, angry voice continued. "If you don't let me go, my sister and her friends are gonna do you in –"

A gruff voice replied in a harsh order, "Gag her! I don't want her making noise that would lead Emberglow's mages right to us."

Then there was silence but for the shuffling of heavy footsteps. Silence before a sharp yell sounded. "She bit me!" cried a young, male voice in disbelief.

"Serves you right," retorted Kaye. "You'd better not try to shove that filthy rag back in my mouth!"

_Now?_ Daja asked with raised brows.

A few seconds of silence before Tris and Briar replied, _Now._

The four mages burst as one through the bush, taking the kidnappers by surprise. Steph and Rose hastily followed. Quickly glancing around the clearing, Steph counted their opponents. There were six men, a boy just older than her and a woman. All had the dark hair and creamy skin of a Lairan native.

The stunned silence was replaced with quick darts to unsheathe weapons. Four of the men wielded long daggers, the woman and the boy were armed with bows and arrows and the remaining two men settled back into a defensive stance.

One of the men holding daggers raised an eyebrow. "_You_ are Emberglow's mages?" he scoffed. "You're just children!"

"We are _not_ Emberglow's mages!" Steph spat, her eyes glittering in pure anger.

"Yeah!" piped up Rose in her shaky, timid voice. "Now let my sister go!"

"Sister?" one of the unarmed men replied. "Then you must be Rose… who are your friends, little girl?"

Daja stepped in front of the quivering girl. "It doesn't matter who we are," she answered firmly. "Just hand over the girl and we won't have to hurt you."

The man smirked at the others. "You hear that?" he asked in a clearly mocking tone. "The children are going to hurt us! We'd better watch ourselves!"

"Don't underestimate us," Tris advised bitterly. "Too many have made that fatal mistake. Step away from the girl. I don't want to have to ask you again."

The young boy cocked his bow and retorted, "Why should we be pushed around by a bunch of girls? No offence," he added with a smirk, glancing at Briar.

Kaye stayed silent until now, stunned out of speaking. "Guys! Hurry up and kick their butts!"

"Kaye!" exclaimed Rose, shocked. "Such crude language!"

One of the men bearing daggers leaped forwards with great agility and speed, getting close enough to strike a gash down the side of Sandry's face. She gasped and staggered backwards, only to trip on a tree root.

Quickly, the five other knife-bearers leapt into combat, locking each teenager into battle. Rose surveyed the scene before her, quivering in fear. She glanced from the fighters to Kaye and back again, before clenching her small fists in determination. Making sure none of the knife-bearers were watching here, she ran as fast as she could to Kaye's aid.

"Rose!" cried the young girl. "I knew you'd come for me!"

"No time to talk," Rose whispered, untying the ropes that bound her hands and feet to a tree. She had just undone Kaye's hands before she felt her body freeze up, allowing only her eyes movement. Straining her eyes sideways, she saw the slivery glitter of magic surrounding one of the unarmed men before fading into nothing. He smirked and continued to watch the battle.

Back at the battle, Steph had grabbed an empty sheath from the ground and was using it to stave off an armed man who was swinging and thrusting with his dagger with admirable precision. His eyes flickered sideways for a moment when one of the other men cried out, and Steph took this change to rip the knife out of the man's hands and throw it into the bush behind her.

Now her natural fighting instincts took over. The man didn't seem to be nearly as skilled with hand-to-hand combat as he was with his dagger. All it took was one hard kick in the shins and a punch in the face before the man went down. Steph glared down at him for a moment, making sure he wouldn't stand in a hurry. Satisfied at his lack of movement, she kicked dirt in his face and ran off to join the others.

Briar was exchanging blows with a man with surprising speed. This man's dagger also lay abandoned on the ground some two metres away. Steph noticed that Briar, subtly but surely, was moving towards the scrub where he could use his magic. Steph grinned and went to check on Sandry.

The gash down Sandry's face was deep and bleeding profusely. It dripped down her face and stained the neckline of her dress, but she didn't care. She fought on with a fierce determination that Steph envied. She had managed to get his clothes to twist so that his arms were bound tightly to his sides. Glaring at the man, she pushed him backwards. She bent down and pried the dagger out of his twitching hands and threw it into the bush behind her.

Steph helped her back up. "Sandry, you're bleeding!" she gasped. "A lot!"

"I don't care," the stitch witch muttered. Reaching up a dirty hand, she hastily wiped her cheek, smudging the blood, along with mud, across half her face. Wincing in pain, she muttered, "I didn't realise it was that deep…"

Steph sat her down on a log. Sandry pulled an embroidered handkerchief from her pocket and held it over her cheek. "Go help the others," she murmured through the cloth.

Steph nodded and went to look for Daja. She was sparring furiously with another armed man. He swung blow after blow at her, yet she managed to block them all with her Trader's staff. Lying unconscious on the ground besides her was the young boy, who seemed to have been knocked in the head by his own bow, and another armed man with a lump on his head that looked suspiciously like the mark of Daja's staff.

A glance at Tris showed that she was taking care of the remaining knife-bearer and the other mage. She turned towards Rose and Kaye and ran to them.

Steph skidded to a halt before Rose. "What happened to you?" she gasped, tugging at her shoulders and wiggling her glasses. "You're frozen stiff!"

Kaye looked at her. "Don't just stand there trying to figure out why Rose can't move! Do something that is possible and _untie_ me!"

"Oh, sorry…" Steph muttered, making quick work on the binds keeping her legs captive. As soon as they were undone, Kaye collapsed to the ground, rubbing her red ankles.

Sensing someone's eyes on her, Steph turned around only a moment too late. She gasped out in pain as an arrow flew through the air to pierce her arm. Lightly touching the arrow, she glared up to the trees in fury.

The woman was crouched on a branch, setting another arrow on her bow. "Damn, I missed your heart," she hissed, and closed one eye. Drawing the string, she hesitated a moment longer, making sure of her aim, and loosed.

As the arrow flew through the air, Steph couldn't help but stand frozen in place. Her brain was screaming at her to move; yet the message didn't get to her legs. She watched, as if in slow motion, as the arrow flew through the air. Just as she was sure it would hit her, a strike of lightning sizzled across its path and fried the whole thing. It dropped lightly to the ground, burned all over.

"Thanks, Tris." Steph grinned at the redhead who was rebraiding some of her hair. She looked past her to where there were the two men she was battling, held captive by two rings of lightning around their necks. They held dead still, afraid that if they moved a hair, the lightning would immediately kill them.

Daja had knocked her opponent unconscious with a sharp rap to the head with her brass-tipped staff, and a glance towards Briar showed that he was smirking at his opponent, held tightly to a tree with masses of vines all twined around each other, too thick to break.

Daja came to inspect Rose. "This is the work of an academic mage," she told Steph and Kaye.

"Yeah, and that means?" snapped Kaye rudely. "They had better not have done anything to my sister!"

Daja pursed her lips before continuing, "It means that none of us can help her," she replied patiently, gesturing at her foster-siblings, "and we haven't fully discovered what Steph's magic can do."

"Dontcha think we should give it a go?" Briar suggested. "See what she can do with that flute of hers?"

"I don't know," Tris countered. "What if she does something horrible awry?"

Sandry touched a delicate finger to her chin. 'She _did_ seem to have reasonable control over her magic though," she pointed out. "I'm with Briar, we should give it a go."

Tris considered this, and nodded.

More than a little nervous, I pulled my flute out of a pocket in my skirt.

"OK, you're going to want to clear your mind of everything else and pour all of your concentration into freeing Rose. Breathe deeply, and start when you think you're ready."

Breathing in, I closed my eyes. I relied on my magic to show me Rose. I cast out my power, letting it settle on Rose.

She seemed to be held by solid air, hard enough to knock on. To her magic it felt chilly like ice, yet smooth like silk and it felt impossible to break. Steph shook her head and cast out that last thought. _I can do this,_ she reassured herself.

Breathing in deeply once more, she raised her flute to her lips and began to play. It was a haunting, rhythmic tune that she had known to send shivers down her own spine, believing the theory that the same thing would happen to Rose, melting the barrier.

To her delight, the barrier began to undo, melting away. It had released her head, then her shoulders, then her torso.

She had freed Rose nearly down to her waist when a sharp, unfamiliar voice broke her concentration.

"_Fool, what do you think you are doing?_"

**Sigh, finally I have updated. Guys, I have to admit, I really really love you all (IN A FRIEND WAY!) for reviewing my story, and still reading it. If you did read this chapter, you are beyond awesome for sticking with me after all this time of having no new chapter. Tee hee, I leave you guys waiting for so darn long, and then I go and leave you with a cliffhanger… I am so evil… MUAHAHAHAHA! Hey, got a cookie?**


	12. Saddened Soul

**OK peoplez, here's the dizzle. I'm getting bored of fanfiction (hell I was bored of it six months ago!) so I sense an early end to this story – earlier than I expected. I think you're getting bored of my story too :D Anyways, If you want me to continue writing with these characters, I will think of a plotline that excites me and makes me want to write more (and I will write a couple of chapters before I start posting so you HOPEFULLY wont get late updates). If you think, "Oh, finally she's ending this torture…" then I will end it early and cease with the Circle, and finish off Survivor, and probably end up deleting my other three fanfics Anyways, onto my story, and tell me what you think in your reviews, or PMs if you must.**

**HAHA I just noticed that I switched to first person halfway through the last chapter That's because nearly every other story I write is written in third person… I'll change it, just not now. I'm too tired…**

"_Fool, what do you think you are doing?"_

Seven heads snapped up to seek out the source of that harsh, unwelcome voice. The remaining mage stepped out of the shadows that had cloaked his presence effectively. Although his clothes looked fine enough, his sandy hair was tousled and his eyes were ringed from lack of sleep. The man spoke in a gravelled voice that hinted at a deep and intense longing for something.

"You think I'm going to let you go?" he continued, his face twisted into an ugly grimace that pronounced his lined face all the more. "You think I'm going to sit back and let you snatch away what I have worked so hard for?"

Through her strong resentment for this man that had caused her friends and sisters harm, Steph also felt a hint of pity. This man seemed so tired and overworked, and she knew he hated it. His voice had a tone of sincere sadness – a feeling that Steph herself had experienced to a large degree herself. This pity was the only thing keeping her from throwing a punch at the mage that moment.

"Countless nights I have sat up, planning the abduction, planning the attack for when it came. I am hungry, cold, and _tired_. All because of _Emberglow_!" He spat out that last word with a bitter hatred that made Steph wince. "_Emberglow_, and his prissy little mages who attend to his every whim and command. He stole so much from my people, so much from me…"

Steph's pity of this man only deepened still. He seemed so helpless, so utterly distressed at whatever Emberglow had done. The mage's hollow black eyes caught Steph's own deep blue ones. She bowed her head slightly, encouraging for him to continue. Whatever he had to say seemed important.

He opened his mouth to continue when Briar butted in. "So basically what your saying that that Emberglow needs a good kick up the –"

"Briar!" exclaimed Sandry. Turning to the man she said gently but firmly, "What exactly did Emberglow do to you?"

The man dropped his head so he was staring intently at his scuffed shoes. Breathing deeply, he lifted his head and went on. "Emberglow is the most power-hungry man I have ever crossed. He went into battle once with one of the neighbouring villages to his own home. He won the battle – as expected – and proceeded to take over it, ruling it as his own. He enjoyed that little taste of power, and wanted more." The man broke off at this point, disgusted. "His sense of domination went to his head. He decided he wanted more, and he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Two years ago, he turned on my town. Two years ago…"

At this point, his legs failed him and he sat down hard on the ground. Sandry sat in front of him, and placed a hand on his knee. "Please continue. We could help you find a non-violent solution to your problem if you just let us help."

The man looked up, showing that his eyes had begun to water. "Two years ago, he came to our town. Such a beautiful place it was. I lived in a small house with my wife and three children. There were two girls and a boy, and they all had curly blonde hair, like their mother…" He gazed off into the distance with a small smile on his face, reminiscing. For a moment his furrowed brow smoothed, and his eyes lit up with a joyful sparkle. Sandry let him be for a few moments before lightly patting his knee, snapping him back to reality. The sparkle dimmed but remained nonetheless. "I was off to the neighbouring village. I specialise in healing, you see, and my fees were low, so naturally I had lots of business in close villages as well as my own. I was helping a young girl with a broken arm when one of my friends burst in, telling me that our village was under siege. I quickly finished my job as best I could, and rushed back to defend my home and family with my life. But when I got there…"

The man broke down. He dropped his head into his hands as sobs wracked his entire body. They sat in silence for a moment, the young ones afraid to say anything that might put the man off telling them more. Finally regathering his composure, he continued, "When I got there, I found my house on fire. It was nearly burnt to the ground, and all… all I could find…was this." Sobbing again, he reached into a pocket and pulled out a small rag doll. It seemed plain enough, with brown yarn hair and a worn and frayed red frock, but just the sight of it enforced the fact that it was definitely well-loved. The whole thing was dusted with black ashes, and a lot of its hair had been charred off on one side.

The man squeezed his eyes shut as his face contorted into a painful grimace. He tightly clenched the doll in a hand that shook. Tears rolled out from under his closed eyelids as he continued in a pained whisper, "I lost so much that day. My home, my friends… my family… and Emberglow was solely responsible. He could never do anything to repay my loss, even if he wanted to. That is why my comrades and I" - he swept an arm around at the unconscious men – "were seeking revenge. They are from close by villages who have also suffered Emberglow's wrath. And we must avenge the deaths of our loved ones…"

Sandry stared at the man with saddened eyes. "I know you wish to take out all of your… despair on Emberglow, but that is not the answer. And releasing your resentment on his children was a horrible move that should never have been resorted to."

Steph nodded her agreement. "By taking his life, you will be just as bad as he was when he was responsible for the deaths of others. A life is not worth a life, and two wrongs do nothing but deepen the guilt."

The man surveyed Steph. "You have been affected by Emberglow's wrongdoing." It was not a question, but a statement.

Taken aback, Steph inclined her head. "How did you know?"

"I am not just a physical healer," the man explained, "but a soul healer too. I learn to read emotions, feelings, auras and such."

"Yes. He… he did something awful a while back, but it is something that seems petty compared to the misery he has put you through. I have considered my revenge, even planned it in my head as a dream that would never come true. Yet through all this, I knew that having him gone was not a solution, but it was me running away from my fears."

Nodding slowly, the man replied, "I guess that makes sense." Getting to his feet, he brushed off the seat of his trousers.

"What are you doing?" Briar asked suspiciously.

"I have decided to let it drop, just this once. I will let Emberglow be, and pray to the gods that he will not destroy another town, or I will come after him." He glanced down at the smiling doll in his hands with a small glimmer of hope in his eyes shining through his tears. "You children have taught me something very important today, and I thank you for that. I must be heading off, and I leave you with my deepest gratitude."

"But where are you going?" Steph asked.

Placing the rag doll back into his pocket, he smiled slightly and shook his head, heading off through the trees in silence.

Feeling her own eyes well up, Sandry sympathised, "What a poor man! He didn't deserve any of what Emberglow gave him. He's been through so much pain…"

Briar kicked a stone. "All those in favour of returning to Winding Circle?"

Daja glanced at Steph in concern, but with a hint of amusement in her black eyes. "Uh, Steph? You do realise that there's an arrow sticking out of your arm."

Suddenly remembering her wound, the pain all flooded back into her upper arm. "Thanks for reminding me," Steph snapped sarcastically, dropping to her knees and clutching her arm just below the arrow.

Briar came and inspected the arrow closely. "Daja, come over here. I think if we worked together we could get this thing loose without much hassle."

Steph grimaced at the thought of the arrow pulling back out of her skin. "Are you sure we have to do it right here? Can't we, say, go back the castle and knock me out with some potion before you do it?"

Briar raised an eyebrow. "Well, it's either we take it out now, or we walk all the way back to the castle just to get my sleeping potions, and risk letting the wound get so infected we'll have to remove your arm."

Steph's eyes snapped wide open. "Do it now!"

Daja and Briar both knelt down at Steph's side. Breathing deeply as one, they reached out with their magic. Gently sliding the arrow out of place together, they managed to remove it without any mishaps besides a few yells of pain from their patient. When the arrow was completely freed, it dropped to the ground with an almost inaudible _thud_.

Steph glanced down at her arm to see a few fat, crimson droplets of blood roll down her arm. "Well, that didn't hurt nearly as much as –" Suddenly her eyes zoomed out. "I feel… woozy…" she muttered before her arm gave way and she dropped to the ground.

Crying out, Rose dropped to her older sister's side. "Steph!" Kneeling close to the bleeding wound, she examined it closely with her magic. "Oh no…" she breathed.

Just before Steph fell completely unconscious, she heard Rose mutter, "The arrow was poisoned." Then the darkness ate away at her vision until she saw and felt no more.

Behind some thick trees and bushes, the eyes of the female archer glinted with satisfaction. Completely hidden from the view of the alarmed teenagers by dark shadows, she turned and walked away, shrugging her bow higher up her shoulder.

**Oh no! Another cliffy! Well, seriously, I didn't plan it. I'm a bit tired - well, a lot tired, I've been getting hardly any sleep lately – and I just watched two hours of Full Metal Alchemist. Oh well, at least this chapter came faster than you expected, I bet D Now tell me people, do I suck at emotional chapters? This was supposed to come out emotional, and I don't think I pulled it off :S And OK, it shall now be an autumn treat, although I'm in the middle of spring… (grumbles about the stupid laws of physics and stale pudding) Is it just me, or does this chapter seem really fast-moving?**

**P.S. Did you know that the word "cliffy" was in my Microsoft Word dictionary? I didn't know it was a real word! Well, that just shows what I know…**


	13. Poison

**Ahh, curse it all. I promised myself that I wouldn't update again until I had at least TWO other chapters so that I could update faster, but I'm so bored... and I have midnight madness... luckily for you all, I'm so darned impatient . Enjoy, and please review... please... I need to know if you still like my story... hehe  
**

Emberglow feasted his dull, blue eyes on the scene rippling before him via scrying. The five teenagers and two younger children fled their small battleground, Briar slowed and burdened by the unconscious figure in his arms.

Turning in his chair to face the smaller mage pouring power into the scrying glass, Emberglow muttered, "They are dangerous, these five. If we do not coax them into our ranks, they could pose quite a threat."

Snowstorm, droplets of perspiration forming around his temples, glanced up at his master. No feelings showed through his heavily lined eyes, no emotion portrayed on his thin, dry lips – it was this blank look that Snowstorm feared the most, even more than when the older mage was in a temper. The blank look meant that he was thinking long and hard, usually planning an act that would bring much harm to others. "Sir?" he asked tentatively.

Sighing, Emberglow stood. "Send out troops, Snowstorm. I want their assailants captured and punished most severely. Find them at all costs."

Snowstorm cut off the power keeping the scrying glass alive with images. Bowing to Emberglow, he shuffled out of the room.

The great mage sighed before sitting back down on his high-backed chair. Leaning forwards to rest his elbows on the desk, he rubbed his temples. "Such liveliness these youngsters bring with them," he muttered in bitter irony.

oOo

Sandry stood on the opposite side of the bridge, gently coaxing Rose across – Kaye had already sprinted across, fearing any attackers whom might be hiding still in the trees on the other side of the cliff. Daja came next, hands tight on the grip of her brass-and-ebony staff. Tris followed closely behind Daja, her grey eyes afire behind their spectacles and tiny sparks racing across her braids.

Briar was the last to cross, tightening his grip on Steph as he set foot after foot on the rickety, old bridge. Finally reaching solid ground on the other side, he glanced down at the commoner in his arms in concern as Sandry disconnected the bridge from their side of the cliff again.

The puncture hole the arrow had made in Steph's arm hadn't clotted at all – the blood still flowed freely, leaving a large bloodstain on Briar's dirty, white shirt. The girl's face had paled to a startling shade of white, and as she lay in the plant mage's arms, her eyebrows twitched at irregular intervals.

Lying Steph down on the grass and remaining kneeling beside her, Briar asked, "What do we do now? I'm not sure if she'll last the way back to the house…"

He heard a soft sob behind him and saw that Kaye and Rose had started to cry. Sandry glared at him. "What did you have to go and say that for? You're getting them all riled up!"

Briar looked away, and Daja advised, "You should wrap up that wound before she looses any more blood."

"Here," Sandry thrust her handkerchief into Briar's face. "Use that. I made it so that it doesn't stain easily; which also means it should work well on her arm – her blood won't soak right through," she explained.

Tris sniffed. "As if that'll work for long," she pointed out dryly as Briar wrapped it tightly around Steph's arm. "Her blood is mixing with the poison. Her outlook's pretty grim," she added, not unkindly. Turning her face to the wind and frowning with concentration for a moment, she informed the others, "They're coming. Emberglow sent men."

"That's a good thing, isn't it?" Daja asked. "They can take Steph back to the house faster than we could. They've healers back at the house, right?" Daja directed at Rose and Kaye.

Nodding, Kaye sniffed and swiped her hand across her nose before using the sleeves of her shift to blot the tears from her eyes. "Will Steph be OK?" she asked pleadingly.

"Of course she will," Sandry knelt down to gather the small girl in her arms. "She's a tough survivor. She'll make it through. You know –"

"They're almost here," Tris interrupted with an update on the troop's whereabouts. Sure enough, the seven heard the heavy tramp of a dozen footsteps making their way through the dense undergrowth and the slight metallic rattle that indicated daggers, swords and buckles clicking together.

Letting go of Kaye and standing straight, Sandry called out to the men. "Excuse me!" As the first of the troop came into view – a tall, buff fellow with wispy, brown hair and a neck as thick as any tree trunk – Sandry cried out again. "Excuse me, sir! We need your help!"

Hearing Sandry's voice and turning around, he stopped right before them, the others of his group – about five of six more – drawing up behind him. "You're the children who escaped?" he asked scornfully, glaring at the adolescents and seemingly oblivious at the unconscious one lying on the floor.

Bowing her head slightly, Sandry explained, "We did only what our instincts asked of us. We need your help – our friend here" – she gestured at Steph – "got shot with an arrow. It was poisoned, and we need to get her back to the house in a hurry before she looses more than just blood."

The man stared at Sandry, then to Steph, before glaring back at the young noble. "Alright," the man grunted, lifting up Steph almost in the same manner he'd treat a sack of potatoes. "But it serves you children right for being in the forest, and during the night too!" Slinging the unconscious commoner over his shoulder, he gestured to his men. "I'll head back to the house. Isaac, you take charge."

As a shorter man scurried to the front, all leather and weapons, the man carrying Steph cocked his head to his left, indicating the other young mages to follow him. "House's back that way."

oOo

Considering how their trip into the forest had gone, their journey out went quite unhindered. Any attackers that may still have been hiding in the leafy crown of the forest were either long gone or hiding well out of sight.

As Kaye and Rose fretted about their older sister, wanting to help her somehow but only getting in the way, Tris and Daja were on the lookout for archers in the trees whilst Briar and Sandry conversed in low tones about the arrow.

"…at first I didn't think it went in that far, but looking closer it might have penetrated the main artery in her arm…"

"… Rosethorn spent weeks getting me to memorise different types of poisons, their symptoms and their cures; we should be able to fix this with a little _time_…"

"… poor girl." Sympathetically, Sandry gazed at the teenager swinging back and forth over the guard's shoulder, her slack face colliding with his broad back with every step he took, crushing her pale, freckled nose.

Reaching out a hand, Sandry lifted her chin up and rested her other hand on Steph's forehead. "Oh dear, she's all clammy!" she informed Briar, wiping wet strands of hair away from Steph's face before letting her drop back onto the guard's back. "Good thing we're almost back, she's starting to look horrible."

Indeed, lights were somewhat visible through the trees ahead. As they neared the front gates, however, Steph began to cough. As Sandry and Briar exchanged worried glances, she began to cough more insistently.

"It sounds as if she has something in her throat," Tris remarked.

As they passed through the large gates, Sandry slightly tilted Steph's head up again. As the commoner coughed yet again, Sandry's hand was splattered with a dark liquid. Letting Steph's head drop and lifting her hand to the moonlight, the liquid showed to be red. Concerned, she showed Briar.

His brows knit in deep concern as he stopped the guard. "Excuse me, but I think I'd like to carry her the rest of the way," he offered.

"What, you have a problem with me taking her?" he asked rudely. "You fancy her or something?"

Taken aback, Briar retorted, "What makes you think that? I just think you're being a little too rough is all!"

"Well, if that's the way you feel, take her!" spat the guard. Lifting Steph from his shoulder, he dropped her roughly to the ground, bringing a wince from Sandry and a muffled cry from Rose. "_I've_ got a job to do."

As Briar hurriedly gathered the fallen mage back into his own arms, the guard strode off into the night, his pace fast and stomping.

"Quickly," Briar urged the others, already halfway up the slope that lead to the front door. Flying past Briar in sprints, Rose and Kaye made it to the door first and rapped hard, trying the door.

"It's locked!" Rose wailed in disdain.

"Step aside," Tris advised, raking a hand of power from one of her wind braids. As the two young children scurried out of Tris's way, a hard gust of wind smashed right through the door. As the now useless piece of wood fell away from the frame and Rose and Kaye slipped inside, Tris quickly rebraided the wind into her hair.

"You know, I could have just disabled the lock," Daja remarked with her eyebrow raised in a slightly amused expression.

Tris glared at her scornfully. "No doubt he had magicked the door," she pointed out cynically.

Daja shrugged dismissively before following Briar and Sandry through the entrance of the house, Tris following closely behind.

As Rose led them to the small infirmary inside the house, on the second level to Briar's disgust, Kaye went to fetch her father. Stomping up hall after hall and glancing into each and every room, she finally found him walking through the kitchens, presumably returning from the privy.

"Father!" she shrieked loudly, stopping short of flinging herself into his arms. "Father, Steph was shot!"

Of course, Emberglow knew of every second of their short trip outside the safety of his walls, but he put on an astonished expression for the youngest, and most naïve, of his daughters. "She was shot?!" he cried, throwing his arms about dramatically. "And where have you been? I worried so!"

Wringing her hands as the whole overwhelming charade took hold of her she shortly replied, "I was kidnapped, but they came to save me, they did! Sister and her friends! Now _come,_" she tugged on his sleeve. "We need to fix her!"

Letting Kaye drag him to the infirmary by his sleeve, Emberglow stirred within his own thoughts. He cared for Steph's life, but only because she could become useful to him in his hunt for land, wealth and power. He was, however, interested in what the arrow was coated in to put his daughter in such a sickly state.

oOo

As Daja lit the candles and lamps in the room that had been doused for the night, Sandry helped Briar lay Steph down on the nearest cot. Tugging the sheets under the commoner's dormant body with her magic, Sandry laid them atop her patient and tucked the sides in firmly.

Lighting the lamp nearest Steph, Daja gazed over her face. Immediately, she dropped the candle in her hand, letting it fall to the ground and roll across the floorboards. "What in the world happened to her _face_?" Daja gasped, fumbling to light another candle.

Sandry, who had been busy fetching a basin of water for Daja or Tris to heat, set it on a counter and joined Daja's side. Sandry clapped a hand to her mouth as she, too, gasped.

The music mage's face was no longer white – it was splotched with large bruises on her chin, forehead and nose. Hurriedly, Briar untucked one side of the cot as Tris gently held up Steph's injured arm to the light. Hand-shaped bruised coloured her whole arm, too, and as soon as Tris lay her arm back down on the white linen, another bruise surfaced where Tris had gripped it.

"It… it seems as if the poison is eating right through the walls of her veins!" Tris gasped. "They're breaking everywhere – see, there's another!" Tris pointed to where Sandry had brushed Steph's cheek to clear her face of lank, brown curls. Even though Sandry had barely touched her face with her fingertips, finger-shaped bruises appeared there too. "If we leave her too much longer, she'll _definitely_ die of blood loss!"

As if to prove Tris's point again, Steph coughed up another mouthful of blood before slumping back down on the clean sheets, motionless except for a slight, uneven rise and fall of her chest.

Bursting through the door in a most undignified way, Kaye dragged her father into the room. "Call the healers, father! Quickly! She –" dropping Emberglow's arm, she clapped both hands to her mouth as she screamed at the sight of Steph's bruised form. Bursting into tears, she ran from the room.

Emberglow strode to the cot, his eyes dull with lack of emotion. "I've called our healers," he said in monotone. "They should be here soon -"

"_I've got it!_" Briar interrupted. As the others looked at him, he explained, "I remember Rosethorn teaching me about this particular poison, the one that eats at your vein walls. The blood leaks into your flesh, forming bruises" – Briar motioned to Steph - "and into your organs. That's why she's been coughing up blood as well. The scary thing is, without the proper cure, no one dosed with this poison lives for more than a few hours."

Rose clawed at Briar's arm. "But you know how to fix her, right? You're a great mage! You ought to be able to whip up a simple antidote!"

Briar looked with concern at the commoner, lying almost peacefully in her cot. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I can try."

**Nyaaa, another cliffy! Darn my evil ways. But at least it's a nice, long chapter for all you awesome people who read this! And fear not, my faithful readers, I shall now go on to finish the next chapter. I promise. And because I promised, I won't break my promise because… I don't break promises… yeah… and it'll be easier because I've already written half of it... yeah...  
**


	14. Healer

**Hee, told you I'd keep writing! How was that last chapter? I don't think I liked it that much… :S Meh well. Please review!**

"_But you know how to fix her, right? You're a great mage! You ought to be able to whip up a simple antidote!"_

_Briar looked with concern at the commoner, lying almost peacefully in her cot. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I can try."_

Emberglow shot a glare at Rose, then Briar. "I do have more experienced mages than _you_, boy. Step back and let them handle the work."

Rose glanced fearfully from her father to Briar and back again before scuttling out of the room, her cheeks flushed. Deciding that there was nothing more for her to do, Tris followed silently.

An unidentifiable emotion flickered across Briar's face for a moment before he regained his smooth face of composure. "I am experienced enough, _sir_. I managed to handle the bluepox alright, I think I can deal with this." Looking dryly smug, he turned back to Steph and felt for her pulse.

Emberglow had already read in reports from Emelan he had recently acquired that the boy was involved in the healing of the bluepox epidemic, but hearing it come from Briar's own mouth made the fact so much more real – Briar was vastly powerful, and could indeed come to great use, as that Trisana girl could. In fact, so could the smith mage, Daja, what with her taming a whole forest fire. The only seemingly useless one of the bunch was Sandry.

Bowing slightly and stiffly, Emberglow tried again, "Young lad, would you consider allowing gifted healers to assist you?"

Waving a hand absently, Briar replied, "Do what you feel necessary. Daja, do you think you could run and get my kit?"

As the Trader nodded and sprinted from the room, Emberglow quested, "Your mages kit?"

"What else?" snapped Briar, impatient. "If you're just going to get in my way, I'd appreciate it if you waited _outside_."

Eyes narrowing, Emberglow replied, "She's my daughter, and I shall stay by her side." Turning to a tall, lean girl in the doorway of the infirmary that Briar hadn't noticed before, he beckoned her forwards with a hand that glittered with elaborate jewellery.

Short, dirty blonde hair swung in front of her face as she bowed, hands clasped in front of her lap. "Sir," she muttered, standing upright and revealing a pale face with a dusting of freckles adorning her visor. An emotion that looked suspiciously like amusement danced in eyes a shade of blue paler than Emberglow's as they flickered over to glance at Steph under their dark lashes.

"Boy – er, Briar, is it?" Emberglow hastened to correct himself. "This is my head healer, Emilie. Allow her to assist you; although she is young, she is the greatest healer in my lands" – Briar did not miss how Emberglow had used the term _my_ – "as she deals in ambient magic. She can cure just about everything but death."

Briar turned from his patient to glare at Emberglow and Emilie. A tense silence filled the air, broken only when Steph succumbed to a string of heaving coughs that wracked her entire body and sent blood flying out of her mouth.

Swooping in with a clean cloth, Sandry pressed it gently over Steph's mouth whilst slightly propping her up with her free arm. Shooting a pleading glance at Briar, she mind spoke, _we'd better hurry. Sounds like she's having a hard time breathing._

Breathing in deeply, Briar lifted a hand in defeat. "Alright. Emilie, right? I would be grateful if you would help us out."

Emilie left her post at the door, striding over to stand at Steph's side, next to Briar. "Sure. I've got nothing better to do anyway."

"Glad to hear you care," Briar muttered out of the side of his mouth. Speaking louder to address his new colleague, he informed her, "She was shot in the upper arm with an arrow soaked in a poison I've never dealt with before." Gingerly, he lifted the torn sleeve of Steph's shift to reveal the initial wound which had grown in size and was leaking blood sluggishly through the cloth which bound it.

Emilie grimaced with a sharp intake of breath at the sight of the wound, despite the fact that it was hidden by fresh layers of bandage that had been spelled by Sandry to keep infection out.

Realising the temporary lapse in her so carefully bleak expression, her face smoothed back into its neutral stare. Casually rolling up her sleeves, Emilie asked, "What do you want me to do about it?"

Briar, thinking for a moment, busied his hands by smoothing Steph's tattered sleeve carefully over the bandages, attempting to obscure the sight of his friend's blood soaking through layer after layer of linen. "Could you try to keep her in a stable state? See, she's loosing so much blood and it's leaking into her lungs and other organs. Of course, if you could fully heal her yourself it would help a lot…"

"I'd bet it would," muttered Emilie. Reaching her arms out, palms down and resting about a hand's width above Steph's motionless form, magic flowed in Briar's eyes to envelop the unconscious mage. It seeped through her web of veins and pooled around her upper arm. The glow dulled after a moment, but didn't disappear.

Answering Briar's questioning gaze, Emilie pointed out, "I've stopped her blood circulation, so she won't loose so much –"

"You _what_?" Briar yelled, shocked. "You'll kill her yourself!"

Glaring at Briar, Emilie snapped, "Let me _finish_. I've stopped her blood circulation but I'm keeping her body properly oxygenated at the same time. Unlike some people, _I _know what I'm doing," she hissed at Briar. "She'll be alright for the moment, but you'd better take action soon, because I can't hold this forever…"

Right on cue, Daja ran into the infirmary, puffing big breaths. Bracing one hand on her knee, she held the other out to Briar, a cloth bag swinging from her clenched fist. "Here's… your kit…" she gasped as Briar stepped forwards to collect the bag. "Too many stairs in… this place…" she added, falling back into a chair.

Rummaging furiously through the kit, Briar triumphantly pulled out a vial filled with a yellowish liquid. "This should suffice," he murmured, unstoppering it. Turning to Emilie, he questioned, "Could you do anything to make it come into effect much earlier?"

Snatching up the vial, she held it up, glaring at its contents. "Depends on what this gunk is."

"Something I made myself, with a little help from my teacher, Rosethorn, and Sandry here," he replied, winking at the noble. "It helps sew up wounds without the need of stitches and replenishes lost blood. It's heavily spelled for health and strength, but I'm going to need your help to make it work its wonders about twenty times faster than it usually would, as Steph here is running out of time."

Emilie nodded. "Ready when you are," she informed him, holding out her hands.

Briar tilted the vial, tipping a little of the yellow medicine into each of her cupped palms. Spreading some on a cloth, she handed it to her.

As Emilie rubbed her palms together, Briar watched the glow surrounding them shimmer and then flare into blinding brilliance. At the same time, the glittering lines of magic that streaked through Steph's veins dimmed before vanishing back into Emilie, pooling with that already dripping from her hands.

Carefully, Emilie brushed aside the sleeve obscuring Steph's arm and peeled away the soaked bandages, now stained a deep red, replacing both with the cloth that had been rubbed with Briar's mixture and smothered in Emilie's excess magic. With eyes sealed tightly shut, Emilie clasped both hands gently yet firmly around Steph's bruise-riddled arm and forced out her magic, allowing it to travel in only one direction – through the girl who lay on the bed in front of her.

Light slowly seeped through Steph in crooked, intricate lines, bleeding outwards from the original wound. Soon her entire body was enveloped in Emilie's glimmering magic and eventually her breathing slowed to a more even pace, her chest rising up and down in a steady rhythm.

Emilie kept her position until her magic had faded into complete nothingness, letting Steph's arm drop roughly back onto the cot and blinking dazedly. "There you go. Happy now?" she asked Briar before yawning widely. Glancing at Emberglow she quested, "May I retire for the night, master?"

Inclining his head, he answered, "I suppose you have done well enough. You may leave."

Emilie thanked him then turned and stumbled a little. "I guess I used more juice than I thought," she scolded herself, taking another shaking step towards the door.

Glancing at Emberglow, who strode right past Emilie and out the door without looking back, Daja sighed and stood up. "Here, Emilie. Let me help you."

Emilie grudgingly agreed, allowing Daja to drag her arm over her shoulder and help her out the door. As the door swung shut behind them, Steph began to cough again, splattering blood over the clean linen sheets she was wrapped in.

As Briar came to her side with a handkerchief, Steph suddenly threw herself forwards into a sitting position, clapping a hand over her mouth as she hacked up a lungful of blood.

Briar, not sure of what to do, just decided to lay the handkerchief across Steph's lap to protect the sheets from further staining, despite the fact that Sandry could clean them thoroughly in a second. Steph lowered her hands slowly, staring at her messy hands.

"Eurgh," she moaned, snatching up the handkerchief and rubbing her hands clean. Wincing from the pain as she pressed her own bruises, she looked slowly around the room, her eyes resting on Briar.

"I passed out, didn't I?" grimaced Steph, her cheeks flaring red through the murky bruises. "How'd I get here?"

Briar leaned back on his stool, resting his hands behind his head. "Some muscly Bag carried you up from the forest part of the way, I carried you the rest." Grinning as the red in her cheeks intensified, he added, "Glad to see you're alright, though."

"This is alright?" Steph glared at the handkerchief splotched with red and scrunched up in her clasped hands. "I feel like I've been trampled by a herd of horses."

Raking her bright blue eyes over the colourful array of bruises mottling Steph's skin, Sandry pointed out, "You look like it too."

Steph rolled her eyes at the stitch witch before spitting into her handkerchief one more time, throwing it to the floor and lying down on her side, growing impatient at the pain that raged through her body every time she moved.

"So, Sandry," she spoke her words slightly slurred with fatigue. "What's your uncle like?"

oOo

Rose and Tris found Kaye curled up in the corner of the courtyard, her knees drawn up to her chin as she sobbed into her skirts. Rose raced to her sister and flung her arms around her, whispering reassuring words into her ear.

Tris leaned against a pillar, the rims of her spectacles reflecting the moonlight, as she waited for Kaye to calm down. Slowly, Kaye got to her feet, rubbing her eyes with closed fists.

"Tris?" she asked, stepping across the grass to stand beside the older girl. "Will my sister be alright?"

Tris bent over a little so she was at the same height as Kaye. "Of course she will. She might not look it at first, but she really will be fine. Briar knows what he's doing, and your father has gifted healers."

Kaye nodded and sniffed. "She looked scary. Is it bad that I don't want to go in and see her?"

A small smile hovering on her lips, Tris patted the young girl on her shoulder. "That's alright. I know how you feel." When the girl still looked worried, she added, "She will come and see you when she's feeling better, alright?"

Kaye's face glowed with a watery smile before the moment was interrupted by a soft growling sound.

Looking down at her stomach, Kaye muttered bluntly, "I never got to eat supper…"

Tris laughed and took her hand. "Let's go and see if the cooks have anything we can eat. Truthfully, I'm a bit peckish too."

oOo

Daja watched with cool, dark eyes as Emilie slid into her bed. She hadn't had the energy to change herself and had refused to let Daja help, so she had discarded the bulkiest of her skirts and climbed into bed in her day clothes.

"You really don't like my master, do you?" Emilie noted once she was tucked away with her sheets pulled up to her chin. "None of you do."

Daja leaned forwards on the chair on which she sat, resting her chin on her interlocked fingers which held up her staff. "I've heard some horrible things about him, but that's all. I don't exactly hate him, but I wouldn't take him to be my friend." Tilting her head a little, she continued, "Briar and Tris, on the other hand… they take to grudges very easily. And after Emberglow's coldness in front of Briar when Steph was in grave danger… no, I don't think Briar would like him very much."

Emilie's mouth twitched as she looked at Daja. Her eyes beginning to droop, she turned to face her dusty white ceiling.

Turning over a question in her mind for a moment, Daja finally spoke it aloud: "Why do you care for him so much?"

Emilie answered with a voice slightly slurred with sleep. "He is my master," she simply pointed out. "He pays me good money, and I am there to do his bidding…"

Upon this statement, Emilie drifted off into sleep. Standing and stretching, Daja grasped her staff and slipped out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind her.

**Wow… that took quite a short time to write, it was just this last page that had me stalling for a week. Why? I'm not quite sure. Note to all aspiring writers – it is easy to write to the orchestral version of Aeris's Theme. That's how I finished :D**


	15. Awakening

**Alright. A year and a half in the making and totally not worth it ;D Yes, it's a filler chapter, but it is quite necessary to advance the plot. I mean, they can't all go running around diong amazing things whilst both Steph and Emilie are bedridden! However, I have plenty of people bugging me to keep writing so HOPEFULLY it won't take as long to finish off the next chapter XD  
**

Steph opened groggy eyes the next day to be met with a vivid ray of sunlight glaring through the open window in the infirmary and onto her bed. Without thinking, she reached up to rub her eyes clean of sleep but instantly recoiled upon contact.

"Ow!" she tried to cry out, but the call of pain was lost somewhere halfway up her throat as she choked on something that clogged up her windpipes.

Sitting upright, she coughed up blood into her cupped hands. Once again moaning her disgust, she called out feebly, "Briar? Sandry?"

Looking up when a clean handkerchief was pressed into her hands, her grey-blue eyes met another pair of a much brighter blue. "Thanks, Sandry," Steph mumbled gratefully, wiping her mouth on the cloth.

"I've put a bowl here" - Sandry indicated to the bowl she had placed on Steph's nightstand – "so you can just cough into that until it goes away, alright?"

Nodding, Steph placed the handkerchief next to the bowl and yawned, shaking her loose curls out of her face. She was still in what she thought was her old shift, only it now looked as good as new and was clean of blood, the results of Sandry's workings as Steph had slept. Suddenly remembering the fight in the clearing, she glanced worriedly at Sandry. "You got hurt," she pointed out, reaching forwards to touch the long scar across Sandry's cheek that now looked weeks old. "How… what happened to it?"

Sandry smiled. "Briar's medicines. They work wonders, even if they sting and smell really bad…"

"Hey!"

The two girls looked up at the mock-indignant cry. Briar had appeared in the doorway, holding a tray of food and grinning widely. "Up now, are you?" he directed at Steph, walking over and setting the tray on the now cluttered bedside table. "It's about time. The cook was getting tired of sending up meals just to end up throwing them out."

Steph smiled. "Glad to see you too. Where are the others?"

"Daja's helping Emilie," Sandry replied. "The poor girl used too much energy yesterday, but at least you're alright. And Tris…"

"...is with your sisters," Briar supplied. "They seem to have taken a liking for her. Quite surprising, really. We're all just waiting for her to bite their heads off." He and Sandry grinned at each other at the reference to Tris's fiery temper.

Bracing both hands on the cot either side of where she was sitting, Steph groaned and swung her legs over the edge. "I want to see how Kaye and Rose are doing," she informed the two mages. "Can you show me where they are?"

Taking a deep breath, Steph heaved herself off the bed, her legs buckling from underneath her as her feet hit the ground. Sandry caught her on one side as Briar grabbed her other arm, steadying her.

"You aren't in any proper state to be walking around," Sandry pointed out. "Not for a few hours, at least."

Glaring at the floor, Steph reluctantly let the two mages sit her back down on the cot, wincing slightly as she freed her arms from Sandry and Briar's grips. "A few hours?"

"At least," Sandry repeated.

Crossing her arms, Steph grumbled, "I want to see my sisters."

Helping her lie back down, Briar murmured, "I can understand that, but you need to rest. They'll still be here in a few hours' time."

Steph opened her mouth to argue when two figures appeared in the doorway – Daja and Emilie, the latter of which was resting half of her weight Daja's staff but still looked so frail that a gust of wind might blow her off her feet. Smiling wryly, Daja announced to the room, "She refused to let me help her, so she's borrowing my staff."

"I don't need your help," Emilie snapped. Hoisting herself away from the doorframe, she stumbled her way across the room to sink into the chair next to Steph's cot which had been left vacant from when Sandry had jumped out of it to prevent Steph from falling to the floor moments ago. Sinking into it with relief, she leaned Daja's Trader staff against the wall and looked down at Steph, her expression business-like.

"I hear you have no teacher."

Startled at the abrupt change of topic, Steph stammered, "I… no, Tris is my teacher. And Briar, and Daja and Sandry. They teach me meditation and control."

Emilie snorted and rolled her eyes. "Meditation? Control? That's all well enough, but if you are to truly prosper under the power you have been gifted with, you need to be guided by someone who knows your magic and will help you to flourish. You could be destined for greatness, and you'd never know – the only mages you have to guide you are ones that have magic with weather, thread, plants and metal. Nothing to do with music and sound."

"Destined for greatness? Me?" replied Steph sceptically. "All I know how to do is play a tune and get my friends to turn cartwheels. If that's greatness, then I'm a tambourine."

Emilie opened her mouth to spit back a sharp retort, but was cut across by Sandry's eager voice. "Do you have such a teacher in mind, Emilie?" she asked, fiddling with one of her braids. Shooting an anxious glace Steph's way, she hastened, "Not that we're trying to get rid of you! I just agree with Emilie, and I'm sure the others would as well. You need a proper teacher; one that knows music inside and out."

Steph looked down sadly at her hands, folded neatly on top of her lap. "But I _like_ having you four as my teachers," she remarked morosely.

"And we like teaching you," Sandry assured her, sitting down on the end of her cot and gently laying her hand on Steph's knee. "But think of all the things you've managed to achieve with us. Think of how great you'd be with a proper teacher!" Enthusiasm lighting up her eyes, she encouraged her, "You'll be able to play the music you love whilst channelling your power to whatever use you please. Think about the possibilities!"

Still looking slightly morose, Steph turned to Emilie. "Why is it that you take such an interest in my education?"

Emilie groaned as she got to her feet. "Power is a fascinating thing," she remarked, shaking out her skirts. "I like to see it at its full potential when possible. Why else would I have joined Emberglow? He employs some of the most powerful mages from around the country." As an afterthought, she added, "Of course, the pay's good, too."

"So what, do you have someone in mind?" Briar prompted, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the clean, white wall.

Emilie flicked a stray strand of straw-coloured hair out of her face as a tiny smile flickered on her lips. "I might. I just need to know whether she's worth the time." She jerked her head at Steph to indicate who she meant.

Briar rolled his eyes. "Right, well, you keep dangling that over our heads and we'll get back to real work, alright?"

Emilie just raised her eyebrows and turned to the open door. Nodding at Daja, who stood by the opening, Emilie picked her way across the room and into the corridor beyond, leaning most of her weight on the staff. Daja made to follow, but was met with a call of "I don't need a babysitter, Daja Kisubo." Daja shrugged at the others and followed anyway.

Steph frowned. "Do you think she was serious?" she asked Sandy and Briar. "Do I really need a specific teacher? I just figured that because I have all four of you teaching me, it'd be fine…"

Briar sighed and sat down on the foot of Steph's cot. "You do need a teacher eventually who shares your magic. Didn't we tell you that?" Without waiting for an answer, Briar continued. "We were going to find you one once we were home again. Assuming you'd come back, of course…" Briar and Sandry shared an uncertain glance.

Looking from one mage to the other, Steph wondered, "You didn't think I'd actually want to stay here, did you?" Shocked, she registered their slightly guilty expressions. "No. No way. I hate this place. I'm only staying for my sisters, but I can't even see them right now!" Heaving herself off the bed, she stumbled into Briar, who had risen with her. Clutching his arm and leaning most of her weight onto him, she demanded, "When can we resume meditation? I need something to take my mind off of this place."

"Steph, you should –"

Her irritation finally flaring to the surface, Steph glared at Sandry. "I'm fine!" she snapped. "I'm sorry, but I do not want to waste any more of my time lying inert in a silly cot all day. I want to get back to music, and meditation, and I want to see my sisters. _Now_."

Sandry seemed taken aback at first, not expecting such an outburst from the usually placid girl, but sighed in resignation upon meeting Steph's stubborn gaze. "If you promise you'll stay in your cot for now and rest, we'll ask Tris to bring your sisters up," she bartered, not unkindly. "Does that sound reasonable?"

Although the corners of her mouth were still pulled down in annoyance, Steph nodded. "Yes, that sounds fair…" Letting Briar lay her back down, she allowed Sandry to call to Tris through their magical connection.

Steph fiddled impatiently as she waited for her sisters and Tris to come up, wincing as she crushed her many bruises. A thought struck her. "Does anyone know where my flute is?"

"NO!" cried Briar and Sandry at the same time, jumping to their feet. "You can't play any music without protections," Sandry explained. "Oh, I can't _believe_ we forgot something as simple as that!"

"Well, it's not like we've taught anyone before," Briar commented wryly. "And Niko ain't here to guide us, either."

"So I can't play any music until I have complete control?" Steph asked, looking from Sandry to Briar and back again. "But… I need to play!" Her bottom lip quivered slightly and she looked on the verge of tears.

Sandry sat down beside Steph. "Don't worry about it," she murmured, playing with Steph's golden-brown curls. "You're very close to having enough control to be allowed to play without magical protection. Maybe a few more sessions before you can play without them." Looking up, she remarked, "Your sisters are here."

Steph's expectant gaze snapped abruptly towards the open infirmary door. Kaye had already bounced halfway across the room, followed by a quieter yet equally eager Rose. Tris was just making her way through the entrance now, looking irritated and glancing back to the man who followed her into the room.

Upon seeing the man, Steph struggled to sit up. "Oh, hello, Father…" she greeted feebly before giving up and lying back down. She looked at her sisters and smiled as widely as her battered cheeks allowed her to. Kaye hopped over to her side before sitting down on Sandry's lap as though she had known her for her entire life.

As Rose came to stand silently behind Steph, Emberglow followed her, twirling a small, wooden object between his heavily jewelled fingers. He glanced at Tris, Briar and Sandry before tossing the object onto Steph's lap.

Steph let Briar pass her the object and smiled when she saw what it was. "My flute! Where did you –?"

"Silence," Emberglow snapped, startling a gasp from Sandry and a cry of outrage from Tris. "Come. You'll be meditating, and I wish to join you."

**Yeah, crap place to finish, but I really couldn't help it. The meditation scene would've taken ages and I like to stick to around 2000 words per chapter. But hey, at least I have something exciting to write for the next chapter! ^_^**


	16. Rooftop

**Er, yeah. Hello again. *****sigh* Yes, I know I have no excuse. Enjoy the update, either way :P**

"_Silence," Emberglow snapped__. "Come. You'll be meditating, and I wish to join you."_

Steph sat on her cot, frozen in shock. Eyes wide and mouth slightly open, her bruised skin stretched over knuckles tightly clenched around her wooden flute. Around her, Sandry sat on her chair with the same expression on her face as Steph. Briar tensed where he sat on the foot of her cot, and Kaye and Rose glanced up at their father, surprised.

"Didn't you hear me, girl? Meditation, now!" Lunging forwards, Emberglow grabbed one of Steph's arms and wrenched her off her cot. Crying out in pain, she stumbled to her feet before her knees buckled under her.

Sandry leapt to her feet at the same time as Briar; Kaye tumbled off her lap. Reaching out, Sandry grabbed Steph's arm in time to stop her from falling to the floor, and slung it over her shoulders, supporting most of Steph's weight.

"What do you think you're _doing?"_ Tris demanded, glaring at Emberglow. Her fists were propped on her hips, her mouth set in a tight line. "Look at that girl in front of you. She almost _died_ the other night, and you expect her to jump at your every whim right at this moment?" The redhead gestured at Steph. "She can't even stand, yet you expect her – a beginner, mind – to meditate?"

"Yes," Emberglow snapped. "She's my daughter, and she'll do as I request."

"She may be your daughter, but she's _our_ student," growled Briar. "Our request counts for just as much as yours."

Briar and Emberglow glared at each other for a moment before Rose interrupted in her quiet, calm voice. "Why don't you let her decide?"

Briar looked thoughtful. Turning to Steph, he opened his mouth to speak before Emberglow cut across him. "Let her choose?" he asked, incredulous. "She's fourteen! She knows not what's good for her."

"Just because she's fourteen doesn't mean that she's a bleater!" Briar stood to lessen the difference between their heights. "If my sisters and I can get our credentials by that age – which I'm sure you already knew – then surely Steph can decide whether or not she wants to meditate."

Emberglow had nothing to say to that. Instead he whirled to face his eldest daughter, staring at her in tight-lipped silence. Rose spoke for him. "Well, how about it?"

Steph glanced guiltily at her teachers before meeting Emberglow's hard gaze. "I want to meditate," she said quietly before her eyes slid down again to rest on her lap. "I did want to before," she pointed out, guilt colouring her tone. "You wouldn't let me. My father will." Tugging on one of her long curls, Steph asked of the young mages, "I'll be fine, won't I?"

Tris sniffed, turned on her heel and left the room. Briar watched her leave then grinned at Steph. "Don't worry about Coppercurls. She just doesn't like not getting her way." Seeing that Steph still looked upset, he added, "She isn't mad at you. She's going up to make the protection circle."

Steph nodded, settling her gaze on her feet: bare and relatively clean of bruises compared to the rest of her skin. Sandry smiled at her. "Look on the bright side," she coaxed. "You'll get to play some music. You haven't done that in a few days."

Slightly cheered up, Steph raised her chin and smiled back at Sandry. "I suppose you're right. I miss music."

Sandry turned to look at her foster-brother as he slung Steph's free arm over his shoulders. "Should I fetch Daja?" she inquired.

Briar shrugged. "Ask if she wants to come. With Emberglow joining us, she might not want to miss the excitement," he suggested, grinning wickedly. Ignoring the face Sandry made at him, he teased Steph, "Come, old lady. Let's hobble on up to the roof."

oOo

Spreading her skirts around crossed legs, Steph looked sheepishly around at the people she sat in a circle with. She met Briar's grin, Daja's and Sandry's encouraging smiles and Rose's worried frown. Kaye also smiled at her; Tris looked annoyed but resigned. Emberglow's face showed no emotion, and Emilie was nowhere to be seen.

Fiddling with the flute in her hand, Steph looked at her lap nervously. "So… uh…"

"Go ahead," Sandry advised. "We'll count and mediate with you. It's alright."

Closing her eyes, Sandry and her foster-family fell into meditation. Glancing around once more, Steph shut her eyes and slipped into the familiar breathing pattern, clearing her mind of thoughts and concerns. Turned inward, Steph was able to see the bright pool of magic inside of herself. Sneaking a glance at her young teachers, she noticed that their magics looked smaller and tighter than hers, but burned far more intensely and betrayed none of the leaks that so constantly fought her grip.

"That's right," Daja murmured, as if she knew that Steph had been comparing the state of their magics. "Pull it in nice and tight, into the object you've imagined…"

An indignant sniff cut through Steph's concentration, causing her hold on her power to waver slightly. "Pull what in tight?" Emberglow demanded. "I hope you don't mean _magic_. It shouldn't be forced into an object."

Ignoring Emberglow, Briar countered, "Don't worry Steph; keep doing what you've been doing. You're making great progress."

"Magic should flourish and grow inside of you," Emberglow continued. "Not forced into an imaginary object. Are you Winding Circle mages so far south that the heat has made you addled?"

Resisting the urge to reply that Emelanese heat was nothing compared to that in the countries that lay beyond the Pebbled Sea, Steph followed the examples of her teachers by ignoring her father and proceeding to fold and prod her magic into the flute shape she had chosen weeks before.

"Stephanie, are you going to listen to your father or a couple of teenagers who think they know far more than they do? These Circle methods of learning will get you nowhere."

Patience wearing thin, Steph opened one eye to glare at her father. "If you need to ask that, you mustn't know me all that well."

Emberglow leaned forwards, matching Steph's scowl. "You'd better not be showing me disrespect, or I'll –"

"Or you'll what?" Tris's angry voice interrupted Emberglow's threat.

Emberglow stopped silent, apparently thinking hard, before forcing a very hard, _very_ cold smile. "Alright, a suggestion then. She seems to be… _adept_ at meditation now. Perhaps a demonstration of her abilities?"

Briar nodded at Steph. "What do you think? Are you ready?"

"You must be confident this time that your power is under control, even though we have a barrier," Sandry added. "Remember, there are people inside the barrier."

Steph ran nervous fingers over the body of her flute, glancing up at your teachers. "What do you think? I trust your judgement. If you say I'm ready, then I'm ready."

Briar sighed blissfully. "I hope all students are this easygoing."

Daja leaned over and smacked his knee. "Concentrate, Briar. This is no laughing matter." Briar just winked at his sister in response.

"Well, I think she's ready," Tris supplied. "Give it a shot, Steph."

Steph nodded. "Alright. What do you want me to do?"

"This lesson is a more instinctual one," Sandry instructed. "Play what comes to mind. Let your magic build up inside, and release it steadily through your music."

If Steph noticed Tris raising her eyebrows at Sandry who shrugged in return, she did not show it. Instead, she gathered enough strength to lift her flute to her lips.

Steph paused. Let the magic build up inside? The instruction seemed vague, but she was in no position to question her teachers and obeyed their instruction. To her surprise, Steph felt a feeling well up inside her, yearning to be let free through the high, sweet melody of Steph's flute. Sure of what to do now, Steph touched her lips to her flute again and released her magic as she blew down into the small pipe.

It was a soft tune which seemed to fill the enclosed area on top of the roof with a pale light. Beginning to get the hang of it, Steph widened the stream of magic she was releasing, still keeping it under control.

"Pah! What is this nonsense?"

The flute's tune cut off with an unpleasant, squeaky whistle and the soft light instantly dissipated. Disheartened by her father's disapproval, Steph frowned. "What?"

"Whistling a tune and making light? That's useless! You can't win battles with that! You need to know how to take the offensive! Magic is your tool, and you must treat it as such."

"Hold on now, _sir_," ordered Briar. "Magic is not a tool. It's a living, changing thing, that –"

"Magic is not alive! It is something that superior humans have the ability to use to their will. I won't have any of this wishy-washy Circle nonsense –"

"_Enough."_

Startled, the small company glanced at Sandry.

A smirk on his golden-brown face, Briar nudged Steph lightly and whispered, "Look, he's gone and made the Duchess go on her nobleness. This is a real treat to see when she's not using it on us."

Ignoring her brother, Sandry propped her fists on her hips. "Now, Jacob Emberglow, I've been patient with you for this entire meditation session but you've taken this too far. I'll not have you speak ill of the Circle temples, which have produced some of the finest mages in history. Your daughter has been given the choice between learning her magic in the flexible way that ambient magic demands, and learning it in a dull and structured manner that works so well for academic mages. She has chosen who she will listen to, and I'd appreciate it if you'd respect her decision and _please stay silent._"

Dumbfounded, Steph stared at the young noble. "Yep, a thing to behold, isn't it?" Briar cackled. "She makes telling a man to stick is neb somewhere else sound like a polite request."

Sandry's cornflower blue eyes turned soft again as she turned on Steph. "Continue, please. You were doing fantastically."

With a hesitant smile, Steph tried to regain that feeling of magic building up inside. However, her father had regained his voice and was muttering under his breath.

Steph began to play, but this time the tune was different. It was sharper; more staccato, and more dynamic. As her father's murmured insults grew loud enough to reach Steph's ears, the tune grew louder and sharper. Steph noticed that her father had suddenly stopped talking, but her anger and hurt fuelled her magic until the steady trickle of magic grew wider and wider until there was too much of a flood to control, yet on she played.

A sharp scream cut through Steph's concentration like a knife and she immediately dropped her flute as though it had burned. Kaye had screamed; glancing around the rooftop, Steph discovered why.

It seemed as though Emberglow had dashed across the rooftop and attempted to hurl himself off the lip of the roof. Briar and Daja had leapt up to grab him in time to save him from a multi-storey fall that would surely have killed him.

Scared out of her wits, Steph dropped to her knees, ignoring the pain from her still-healing bruises. She stared down at her flute, her eyes clouding over with tears. Picking it up in a shaking hand, she looked up at her teachers. Knowing the answer already, she asked, "Was that…did I do that?"

Tris nodded gravely. "It's not unusual. Your mood affects your magic, no matter how hard you try to control it. If this becomes a regular occurrence, then you'll need to learn how to control your temper as well as your magic."

The tears spilled over. "No, you won't need to teach me to control my magic. You don't need to teach me anything anymore. I don't _want_ to learn magic!" Getting to her feet, Steph attempted to run back to the infirmary. She made it halfway down the stairs, out of sight of the others, before the weakness of her healing body and her most recent magical working struck her. She stumbled on the stairs and sat down hard, crying.

Briar glanced at his sisters. Without exchanging a word, he released his grip on the stark white, cursing Emberglow and followed Steph's path down the stairs to help her back to the infirmary.

Hearing Steph attempt to make her way back down into the house, Emilie faded away from the staircase, silently making her way back to her own quarters.

What she had seen on the rooftop interested her greatly. As rare as it was for Emilie to spend her time thinking of others, Steph was an exception. Mentally, Emilie flicked through the mages she knew who had a gift with music and sound. She knew she had a cousin with the gift for music who had taken his vows at a temple in Capchen, as well as a friend of the family who was paid to perform for the empress in Namorn. However, magic with music was not as common as magic with other crafts such as pottery or cooking. Emilie had limited choices.

If she remembered correctly, her second cousin's daughter had a talent for music as well… but no, she was only twelve years old and had no credentials to her name. She wouldn't do.

Remembering the speech Sandry had dealt Emberglow, Emilie decided that her Dedicate cousin would be the most appropriate choice. Either way, she could understand the sense of importance her friend must be feeling, performing for Empress Berenene, and would not want to take that away from her.

Her cousin was also a good choice in that he would be used to strange magics, having lived at a Circle temple for years. Creating lights and causing enemies to fling themselves off buildings? Yes, Steph's magic was certainly strange.

Emilie smiled to herself, intrigued with the possibilities of such a unique form of magic. Deep in thought, she had absently made her way into her chambers and sat down at her small, wooden desk, pulling paper and reed pens towards her as she did.

She had a letter to write.


End file.
